


under the mask

by contagiousiridescence



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Action, Canon Universe, F/F, Post 2x08, Sex at some point, Slow Burn, SuperCorp, alien segregation, fluff is probably in there somewhere, if I sound like I know what I'm doing don't believe me, lena is also very tired of all the bullshit, lena struggles with emotional distress, more angsty than I realized oops, sanvers makes a cameo, some angst I think?, sort of a slow burn because I'm terrible at them, technically kara pov, there is an actual plotline i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contagiousiridescence/pseuds/contagiousiridescence
Summary: After the events of Medusa, Lena Luthor has isolated herself from contact-- including from Kara Danvers, Supergirl, and most of the outside world. Kara struggles to save her friendship and Lena's name when it suddenly appears that the remaining Luthor has put a plan in motion to save National City from further destruction: segregating the aliens and humans for their own good. When Supergirl is forced to retreat for safety, Lena must decide what kind of Luthor she ultimately will become.





	1. Chapter 1

Kara stared. Wide eyed, trembling, as the orange dust filtered down onto the pavement. Onto J’onn. Her throat was tight as she watched him tilt his head back, eyes closed, arms open to embrace the virus.

  
She couldn’t help herself. Her hearing expanded beyond the lot, out to the city where the rest of the alien population would be meeting the same demise as her friend. Her breath caged in her chest, choked and aching, as she braced for the first agonized gasps and bewildered screeches of pain.

  
Her father did this. Her perfect, stoic, intelligent father-- the man whose steady hand she’d flourished under as a child. She could remember his face from Krypton, before her mother placed her into the pod. As a child, that face was a memory of comfort; she imagined that face at night, when the sounds of Earth still frightened her out of sleep. She heard his soothing voice whenever a nightmare pitched her back to the soul-shattering horror of Krypton’s death.

  
And now it sickened her. She recoiled from the memory like a wounded animal. There was bile in her mouth at the mere thought of him. How could he have done something so barbaric? So evil? Wasn’t this the very kind of thing he’d told her to protect people from? No-- he’d wanted her to protect Kal-El. Not the humans.

  
Her stomach clenched, and Kara gripped herself, tears spilling over onto her cheeks. Any moment now. In mere seconds J’onn would be dead, and Kara would be utterly alone.

  
It was her fault, really. If Supergirl hadn’t come out of hiding, the humans would have never gotten into the Fortress of Solitude and found out about her father’s biological weapon. Kal-El would have found some way to keep it safe. And it was her father-- not Kal-El’s-- that designed such a terrible weapon in the first place. Maybe if Kara had never come to Earth, none of this would be happening. Lillian Luthor never would have gotten her hands on this technology if Kara’s pod had stayed in the Phantom Zone.

  
“The isotope,” Kara suddenly heard, from across the lot where she’d all but forgotten her enemy was standing. Her, and Lena Luthor. Kara turned slowly to stare over at them. “You switched the isotope,” Lillian Luthor repeated, and in her face Kara saw unfettered disbelief and-- was that disgust? “You made the virus inert.”

  
There was a numbness in Kara now. Her gaze snapped over to J’onn again. As she watched the virus coat a thin layer over his skin, she began to wonder.

  
“I did,” Lena Luthor responded, in the same cold, detached voice she’d used against Kara-- Supergirl-- earlier that day. Kara could not see her face, but from the edge in her tone she imagined Lena’s expression mirrored her mother’s. Mistrusting, stony. Betrayed. The way it had been just hours prior when Kara begged Lena not to fall in league with Lillian. “And I called the police.”

Like clockwork, the warbling siren of police cars suddenly broke through the haze of Kara’s swimming thoughts. Isotope? Police?

  
“What?” J’onn’s voice was soft and perplexed. She gazed at him, the dust still lingering on his dark skin and in his hair. He was blinking up at the sky as the last of the virus drifted down. She could see the moment of realization flash through his eyes, and it almost stung her to see disappointment take its place right after. But that sting was followed by a rush of guilt, because she knew. She knew exactly what he felt. Kara had felt it when she’d awakened suddenly in her pod after spending years in the Phantom Zone, only to crash onto a strange planet with no one but her baby-now-adult cousin to share in the loss of their home. Even then, Kal-El never truly felt it like she had.

  
Kara reached for J’onn. “The virus is inert,” she said, echoing what she’d heard from Lillian Luthor. Her hands gripped J’onn’s shoulders, though whether it was a gesture of reassurance for him or herself, Kara couldn’t quite tell.

  
“How?” he demanded, staring at her.

  
Kara’s blue eyes swung upward at the night sky. The virus had nearly stopped falling by now, though occasionally a flake of it fluttered down into a stream of light. Then her gaze fell over to where Lena and Lillian stood. Policemen were there, forcing Lillian’s hands behind her back as she snarled something in Lena’s direction. Kara forced herself not to listen; she couldn’t bear to hear anything else that woman had to say.

  
Lena, however, stood untouched. She looked like a sculpture, unmoving and unblinking as she watched Lillian be forced into a police car. Somehow, in the rapid strobe of the car lights over Lena’s face, Kara could see the poised ferocity in each flash of red, and the battered, trembling fear in every stroke of violet. Her jaw was clenched tight, fingers digging into her upper arms. There was something undeniably captivating about that moment; Kara could only stare, unsure of what emotion was currently churning through her as she watched the youngest Luthor from afar.

  
“Lena Luthor,” Kara finally answered, and though Lena could not possibly hear her from across the lot and through the chatter of policemen, she suddenly turned to glance over at where Supergirl and J’onn stood. Her eyes glinted in the lights, and Kara could read nothing from her face.

  
J’onn grunted. “Lena Luthor? As in the same Lena Luthor that just decided to cuddle up to Mommy by killing the entire population of alienkind in National City?” There was venom in his words, and the particular flavor of distaste that Kara picked up on sounded awfully familiar.

  
“Don’t,” Kara said sharply, turning to settle J’onn with a pointed look. “We’re not playing that game. I don’t want any part of this ‘us versus them’ mentality. That’s exactly what got us here in the first place!”

  
He responded by folding his arms across his chest. The orange dust fell from the movement, and Kara was reminded that while Medusa had been rendered ineffective on a broad scale, Mon-El was still suffering at the DEO from the first attack. Standing around gawking wasn’t going to help him.

  
“Let’s go,” she said, before J’onn could muster any other snide remark about the Luthors.

  
Kara’s feet had only lifted a yard off the ground before she twisted around to look back over at Lena. The young Luthor was gone; in the crowd, it took Kara several moments to make out the sharp, regal figure of Lena being escorted to a black sedan by a couple policemen and women.

  
Just before she ducked into the car, Lena looked back up at Supergirl hovering over the lot. Their eyes met. As Lena disappeared into the sedan, Kara wondered why the squeezing pain suddenly returned in her lungs.

 

\---

  
One week.

  
One entire, long, completely boring week.

  
Kara groaned and let her head fall down onto her desk. None of the other reporters so much as looked up, or even seemed to take note of Kara’s loud, slightly growled exhale. Neither did any of them really care to answer when she asked aloud, “Has National City ever been this painfully...mundane before?”

  
Not that Kara Danvers should be complaining about the world returning to normalcy. She should have been embracing it and enjoying the sweet freedom of life now afforded to Supergirl for having literally nothing to do. A convenience store robbery? Supergirl shows up, and the thief empties his pockets and throws himself at her boots. It was kind of sad, really. He didn’t even discharge his gun, like, once. Of course, Kara Danvers would definitely prefer that all bullets remained un-discharged and inside their respective shells. And then there was the drug smuggling ring she’d stumbled across by complete accident...if anyone could call a group of first-year college kids coming back from their trip to Amsterdam with a bag of weed drug smuggling, as the rest of the media tried to paint it. She actually felt pretty bad about that one.

  
Kara sighed into the paper her cheek lay against. Another puff piece about another hot shot who’d donated another large sum of money to some other publically funded project to expose the aliens in National City. She couldn’t stand the stories Snapper was putting her on. It was like he was purposefully sorting through the leads and sending her off toward anything even remotely anti-alien. It was like he _knew_.

  
“Hey, _Danvers!”_

  
“Speak of the devil,” Kara muttered to herself, and to her surprise, an intern that had been passing behind her chair stifled a chuckle against his hand.

  
Snapper Carr was not the most pleasant person in the morning. Or afternoon. Or anytime, really. Kara positioned herself in the threshold of his office, doe-eyed and smiling, hoping that perhaps this time his bellowed summons meant something more exciting than discussing the upcoming press release from the major. Again.

  
His gaze was downcast at the fountain of paperwork covering his desk. One hand hid his immediate expression from view as he rubbed at his forehead, but Kara could still see the deep crease of a frown cut into his jowls.

  
He flipped a page of the report he was reading. Without looking up, he said, “Absolutely nothing you’ve submitted this week has held my attention longer than three seconds. I wouldn’t even publish it in _Teen Vogue_.”

  
A flush of heat rose on Kara’s cheeks and neck. She had to physically bite her tongue to prevent the explosive _“Excuse you!_ Teen Vogue _is a wonderful magazine filled with brilliant journalism!”_ from tumbling out of her open mouth, and instead sputtered, “What’s wrong with my work?”

  
Snapper tossed the report onto his desk with disdain, and Kara realized it was the one she’d handed to him that morning. “It’s boring. No one wants to read this crap,” he answered, top lip curled.

  
“That-’s-- Those are the stories you put me on!”

He grunted. “Apparently, that was a mistake. For some reason I was under the impression you could handle something that simple.”

  
Kara gaped at him. Even if this response from him was entirely predictable, it still stung her to the core every time. She couldn’t help the slight shake to her voice as she said tightly, “Well it’s not like National City has been terribly busy with anything interesting since…”

  
As she fell quiet, Snapper peered up at her from behind his glasses. He stabbed a finger at her and said, “Exactly. No one gives a shit about these galas and charity events and press releases since that CADMUS fiasco. I thought you were someone with initiative, Danvers.”

  
“I am!” she responded hotly, though a moment later, the heat in her cheeks lessened. He thought she had initiative?

  
“Then act like it,” he growled. He jabbed his finger at her again. “Get me that exclusive with Lena Luthor, or don’t come back at all.”

  
Kara froze. In the full seven days since CADMUS’s attempt on alienlife in National City, Lena Luthor had sequestered herself completely from all media outlets. No statements, no press, no social buzz whatsoever. Even her online presence had gone completely quiet. She outright refused any reporters or journalists to step into her building-- including Kara herself. Kara wasn’t even sure any of the paparazzi had managed to get a photo of Lena in that time frame except for the blurred outline of her ducking into a luxury sedan surrounded by bodyguards. That photo still haunted the front pages of the major outlets, with headlines similar to “LUTHOR HEIR TIED TO ANTI-ALIEN ATTACK” or “LENA LUTHOR’S SILENCE: ADMISSION OF GUILT?”

  
It rattled Kara just how isolated Lena was keeping herself. She’d seen Lena sabotage the Medusa virus with her own two eyes. Wouldn’t Lena want to take some of that credit for her own, instead of leaving the responsibility on Supergirl’s shoulders? What about clearing the Luthor name?

  
“I-- I can’t,” Kara said quietly, glancing down as she pulled at the hem of her blouse. “She won’t talk to me, or anyone.”

  
“So try harder. She’s talked to you in the past. Or get your girlfriend Supergirl to do it, I don’t care how. But if that interview ends up on my desk without your name attached to it-- or god forbid, on some _other_ editor’s desk-- you’re outta here.”

  
She had to swallow down the edge in her voice as she answered, “Yes, sir,” and moved away from his office.

  
Great. Not only was Lena Luthor refusing press, but any attempt of communication from Supergirl had been met with the same results. She’d tried. After their last conversation, Lena had proved herself more than a trustworthy ally and friend, yet she blocked Supergirl at every turn, going so far as to install some sort of lead-lined covering to her office windows and walls so that Supergirl couldn’t see through. It frustrated Kara to no end. How was she supposed to talk to someone who wanted nothing to do with either part of her?

  
Kara gathered her things off her desk and arranged them into her purse. Just to be sure, she checked her phone and forced herself not to huff in annoyance when the screen remained void of notifications. Like usual for the past week, there was complete radio silence on Supergirl’s front. It definitely was not helping that the Guardian was getting to the petty crimes before she even heard wind of them.

  
“Hey, Alex,” Kara said, just as soon as she heard the line click through. She shoved her phone between her cheek and shoulder as she grabbed for her half-empty latte. “I need advice.”

  
“Don’t fly with your mouth open,” was the automatic reply.

  
Kara rolled her eyes. “No, not like that. I mean, like--”

  
“Is this about Mon-El?” Alex interrupted, and on the other end of the line Kara heard the faint grumble of Hank shouting at another agent. A dull thud followed shortly after. “Because I get that he’s into you, but if you’re still thinking about that kiss--”

  
“What? No!” The flush returned full-force to Kara’s cheeks, and she had to duck her head to keep the other reporters from noticing when they looked up at the sound of her raised voice. “No, it’s not like that,” she hissed into the receiver. A moment later, she added, “Okay, yeah, I think about it sometimes. I don’t know. He’s from Daxam, and honestly he’s kind of a pain in the--”

  
“Good, I’m glad you noticed,” said Alex, laughing slightly. “You shouldn’t date someone you can’t be friends with.”

  
Kara frowned. “He and I are friends.”

  
“Yeah, but how good of friends? Someone who constantly disappoints you and puts himself first isn’t that great of a friend if you ask me--”

  
“I’m not asking you,” Kara said sharply, and again, a little too loudly. The nearby crowd glanced over at her, and she kept her gaze averted to the ground as she walked.

  
There was a small pause from Alex. “Everything okay?”

  
Kara took a breath. “Yes. No. I don’t know,” she said, all at once. Her shoulders sagged when she exhaled. “Snapper told me to interview with Lena Luthor or I lose my job.”

  
“Ouch. That’s rough.”

  
“Normally I’d be up to the task,” she said, balancing her latte and purse in one hand as she swiped her bus pass through the card reader. It beeped at her, and she flashed a sunny smile at the driver before maneuvering toward the back of the car. “But honestly, since the CADMUS disaster I think I’d have a better chance of getting Lillian Luthor to talk to me than her daughter.”

  
“So you’re calling me for advice on...how to talk to girls?” Alex asked slowly. There was another thud in the background, and Alex huffed in amusement.

  
“Well, no, I mean-- well, yeah, I guess,” Kara said. After a moment, she added, “What are you doing, anyway?”

  
“Watching Hank beat up some poor idiot,” Alex answered, chuckling again.

  
“Why?”

  
“He’s the new kid.”

  
“Ah.” Kara hadn’t met the newest recruit yet, but she still felt sorry for him. “Anyway, do you have any ideas? Before this, she gave me blanket permission to visit her office whenever I needed. Now I’m pretty sure it’s been revoked, since her assistant just about chased me back into the elevator when I showed up the other day.” Granted, that had also been after four other reporters had somehow snuck past security, but Lena also wasn’t responding to Kara’s phone calls or emails. Kara would have tried throwing a paper plane through the goddamn window if it meant getting Lena to acknowledge her.

  
“She gave you complete access to her personal office?” Kara could hear the thoughtful frown playing over Alex’s face in that moment. “That’s...interesting.”

  
Kara scoffed. “Well, it might have been, if it meant anything now. I might as well be a stalker with a restraining order for as much welcome I’ve gotten after Medusa.”

  
Alex gave a contemplative hum. “Sounds like she trusted you enough before the CADMUS incident. And it’s not like she knows you’re, you know-- super. Right?”

  
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t think so. It’s not like I told her.”

  
“Well, maybe she’s just having a hard time. Her mom did turn out to be crazy evil like her brother. That’s enough to make anyone want to distance themself from the world for a while,” Alex suggested.

  
A moment passed. Then--  
“Oh no,” Kara groaned, planting her forehead into her palm. Lillian Luthor. Lena’s mother. The last time she had spoken to Lena as Kara…. “I messed up. Back when I was trying to figure out if Lena knew anything about her mom, I pretended to interview her for a piece regarding women in power and the ‘mothers that raised them.’ She’s not stupid. Lillian turning out to be the leader of CADMUS like, right after, is too big of a coincidence.”

  
“So maybe she thinks you’re just digging for more dirt on Lillian. Or maybe she thinks you’re going to frame her. Or something.”

  
Kara rubbed at her temples. This was so not her morning. “Whatever it is, she’s suspicious of me. And I guess she doesn’t have any love for Supergirl right now, either.”

  
“Why not? Supergirl tried to warn her beforehand-- oh, wow, this guy bruises _fast_ \-- and look how she handled it. She made the right decision. I can’t see why she would hold a grudge against you now,” Alex said, and a split moment later Kara heard her shout toward someone else, “Hey! Don’t touch that!”

  
“Sounds like you have your hands full,” Kara commented. She peeked out of the bus window and up at the skyscrapers they passed by. “And as for Lena… I don’t know. She seemed pretty angry at me before. Honestly, I think she’s kind of scared of me.”

  
“She should be. Of all people, she knows how much weight her name carries. She shares a city with a Super-- which means any move she makes as a Luthor is going to draw massive attention. If she’s not careful, we could have another CADMUS on our hands before we know it.”

  
“She’s not like that,” Kara interjected firmly, staring up at the L-CORP building as the bus drove through its shadow. When she squinted, she was disappointed to see the lead shutters were still drawn shut. “She’s good. She proved that already.”

  
“She proved she’d unwilling to get caught,” Alex said pointedly. “Lena Luthor is smart, Kara. Don’t let that pretty face fool you.”

  
Annoyance twinged in Kara’s chest. She could understand why J’onn was resistant to acknowledging that Lena Luthor was a good person. But Alex? It was bothering her how distrustful everyone was being. “Look, I’m almost there. Any pointers on how to get her to actually see me this time? I don’t feel like wrestling with security today,” Kara said, sighing. With her luck, it would probably come to that regardless. 

  
“Oh, right. Advice. Uh, I’m literally the worst person to be asking how to smooth talk a woman--”

  
“That’s not what I’m doing!”

  
“--but if you want any chance at getting her to even consider letting you near her, you can’t be trotting up to her door with your notebook and pen and tape recorder. You can’t be expecting something from her. She’ll pick up on that instantly.”

  
Kara frowned and looked down at the notebook in her lap. Prepped for an interview.

  
Alex continued, “If I was her, the last thing I’d want to do is talk to someone I barely knew about my mother, who just tried to murder a bunch of people with my own technology. I wouldn’t want to give an interview, either. I’d want someone to just listen to me.”

  
Kara made a noise of frustration. That was what made this so difficult. She was supposed to be delivering an interview about the incident to Snapper, not Lena’s Feel Better Soon card. “Okay, but I’m supposed to--” Kara began, but Alex cut her off with a click of her tongue.

  
“Don’t be a reporter today, Kara. Be a friend. Someone she’d actually want to talk to,” her sister said gently. “You’re not going to get her to talk to you any other way. But be honest. If she suspects you have ulterior motives, she’ll dump you outside faster than you can blink. Or fly.”

  
Kara chewed at her lip for a moment. It made sense, and she had absolutely no qualms with playing the part of the friend-- because it wasn’t a part, as she seriously considered Lena on her list of friends-- but even if Lena did get around to talking to Kara at some point, the possibility of an earnest interview seemed entirely out of reach.  
She sighed. Alex was right. She was going about this entirely wong. Guilt crept up through her stomach; she was focusing too much on her job, and not enough on the real issue at hand. “You’re right. This isn’t about me, anyway, it’s about Lena,” Kara said. To hell with the interview. If it meant Lena could stop hiding herself away from everyone, it was worth it. “Thanks, sis. I gotta go, the bus just pulled up to my stop. Have fun with the new guy.”

  
“Good luck, Kara. And be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.” The end tone sounded before Kara could question what that meant, but as she stepped off the bus and craned her head back to gaze at the L-CORP on the side of the building, she had a feeling she knew exactly what Alex was implying.


	2. Chapter 2

Being a friend wasn’t hard for Kara. She practically thrived on friendship; it was like yellow sunshine to her. That was, after all, how Supergirl managed to become such a successful superhero. She wouldn’t be anywhere near the level she was at now, had it not been for her friends. Hell, she wouldn’t even _be_ Supergirl without her friends.

  
It was being Lena Luthor’s friend that was the problem.

  
Kara adjusted her blouse and gripped the stem of the stargazer lilies she’d purchased from down the street. Flowers seemed like an innocent enough offering, right? Flowers made everyone feel better, Kara was sure. Besides, the second she’d glimpsed the lilies on that little florist cart on the corner, she’d immediately thought of Lena. What better reason could she have to bring them?

  
The L-CORP building shone like a beacon of crystal as the sunshine glossed over the window glass. She could still see a faint impression of the name “LUTHOR” from where it had been removed from the western facade, but the new blocking of L-CORP made it almost entirely unnoticeable. As she slipped through the front doors to the lobby, she realized the entire inside had been scrubbed of the name as well. “Luthor” was nowhere to be seen.

  
Kara cleared her throat and glanced back down at the lilies. Before CADMUS, being Lena Luthor’s friend didn’t seem so...difficult. Sure, Lena was a multimillionaire with family who stubbornly refused to acknowledge aliens as people, but just as a person herself, Lena was pleasant to be around and fun to talk to. It was easy, then. Kara had never felt more attentive-- or attended to-- than whenever she was talking to Lena Luthor. Even when Kara had to write an article admonishing Lena’s alien-detection device, Lena had laughed it off and embraced Kara’s staunchly pro-alien activism.

  
Now, in the wake of Lillian Luthor’s betrayal, Kara couldn’t figure out how to be the friend that Lena needed.

  
The elevator that Kara typically rode up to Lena’s office was safeguarded by two large, broad-shouldered men with earpieces. Kara made a face and turned away from them. Of course Lena would have tightened security; this building had seen its fair share of terrorists, and after Lena’s name had been linked to the CADMUS activity… well, Kara couldn’t blame her for being cautious. The fact that four reporters had gotten through earlier that week probably hadn’t helped. She would have to find another way and soon, before she was kicked out for loitering.

  
Turning around, Kara tipped her glasses down to the bridge of her nose and squinted around the lobby. Thankfully, Lena hadn’t seen to lining her entire building with lead; Kara could see into a majority of the offices above and around her, though she found some of the laboratories downstairs were impenetrable by her radiographic sight. That, however, was less likely to do with Supergirl and more likely to do with containing radioactive waves inside of the facility. She found with delight that Lena’s office floor was also unprotected. And there was Lena at her desk, alone.

  
“Excuse me, can I help you?”

  
Kara instinctively turned at the voice. It came from a front desk staff, who raised an eyebrow at the lilies in her hand. By some stroke of good fortune, she didn’t recognize him-- which also meant he hadn’t seen her before, either.

  
“Ah,” she started, feeling her cheeks go pink. She pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Ah- well, I’m just--” she cleared her throat and smiled brightly at him, “You see, I wanted to give these flowers to--uh--to J-Jess.”

  
It took him a moment to realize who Kara was referring to. “The secretary?” he questioned, sounding unconvinced. “The one with the _fiance_?”

  
Of course. Kara held in her groan and instead quipped, “They broke up--um, last night. Thought maybe I could cheer her up today.”

  
His frown remained, though the skepticism seemed to lessen somewhat. “Well, she did sound a little more pissy than usual this morning,” Kara heard him mutter to himself. There was a brief pause, and then he waved a hand at the flight of stairs to Kara’s right. “Take those. The elevators are off limits right now. You can reach her on floor--”

  
“--twenty five. She told me,” Kara cut in, smiling.

  
“Well, technically, but you’re not allowed up there anymore. No visitors are. You’ll have to exit on floor seventeen and ask one of the floor staff to call her down,” he said. “New rules.”

  
Damn. “Oh, okay. Thank you!” She wouldn’t wait for him to change his mind. With all of the confidence she could muster, Kara marched directly for the stairs and hastily closed the door behind her.

  
Phew. That went...better than she expected. Lying was definitely not one of her superpowers. Or regular skills in general.

  
This did, however, present her with another problem. She would have to figure out how to navigate the other floors so that she could reach the top where Lena’s office was. But Kara had never used the stairs to reach the office before, and with all of this new security… well, it just about felt like a mission for Supergirl. She almost expected red laser tripwires to be spread down every hallway.

  
Kara scanned the stairwell for cameras quickly, and then sprang forward into a super-speed ascent to the seventeenth floor when everything looked clear. She only stopped once when the door to fourteen swung open, and she hid behind it as a young woman headed down the stairs, nose buried in her iPhone. There were no other personnel in the stairwell after that, which seemed curious to Kara if the elevators were being restricted. She skidded to a stop at the landing for seventeen and advanced slowly on the door.  
With her ear pressed against the metal, she listened for the staff on the other side. None of the conversations seemed to be of any interest; mild mannered chats, some gossip, and a few whispered secrets that Kara would definitely have been better off without hearing, but nothing about Lena or even L-CORP in general. Kara did hear, however, someone mention Jess’s supposed break up and the mystery girl who’d arrived to bring sympathy flowers. Oops.

  
Kara craned her head back to look up at the remaining flights. There was more security on each floor guarding the doors to the stairwell. Lena was definitely going through some extreme lengths to keep the building off limits to unauthorized visitors. If Kara planned on making it anywhere near Lena’s office, she would have to use some of her powers to avoid getting caught. Yet that potentially put her in a compromising situation; what about cameras in the halls? How was she going to explain that she managed to dodge every guard and get through restricted access?

  
She blew a soft raspberry as she contemplated her options. Plan A, go through with the lie about Jess and somehow convince Jess to let her upstairs. Plan B, Supergirl blows by all of the defenses and plants her right at Lena’s door. Plan C--

  
“HEY!” A deep voice hollered up from a few flights down. Alarmed, Kara peeked down over the railing, and to her horror, she saw a group of guards marching up toward her from the fourteenth floor. They shouted again at the sight of her and loped up the stairs two at a time.

  
Oh no. “Oh god what’s Plan C?” she asked herself aloud, clutching the flowers to her chest. Kara didn’t do good with panic. Supergirl didn’t _panic_! Surely, they could all just take a moment and talk it out, right? Kara had a sinking feeling that these men were not being paid for their conversational skills. As the burly guards drew closer, she squeaked, “Running! Running is Plan C!” She dove for the stairs, careful not to let her superspeed carry her too far… though maybe it did help, a little.

  
The door to floor nineteen banged open behind her as she raced past. A moment later, twenty’s door flew open, and Kara had to grab the railing to stop herself from barreling into the man that stepped out onto the landing. He grunted as he lunged for her, but Kara was swift and ducked under his meaty arm before squeezing behind him and up the next flight of stairs.

  
The next guy was skinny. Kara found herself feinting back and forth to his mirror, until suddenly he snatched her arm and attempted to twist her into submission. Without thinking, Kara whipped out of his hold with a small burst of heightened strength-- and he yelped, startled-- and she let the off-balanced maneuver send him sprawling onto his back on the landing below. The guard from floor twenty had just rounded the corner of the same landing in that moment, and the two of them collided with a painful _thunk_ of skulls.

  
“I’m sorry!” Kara yelled over her shoulder. She would have to worry about them later.

  
The door to twenty two had just clicked open when Kara slammed a hand against it, keeping it pinned shut. For good measure, she gave the lock a quick zap of heat vision to weld it in place before anyone saw. Not enough to be overtly noticeable upfront, at least, but it kept the guards from opening the door. She heard someone on the other side curse about faulty locking mechanisms and smiled to herself.

  
Kara was not so lucky, however, when she ran up to floor twenty three and found four guards from this floor and the next combined bearing down on her. The stairwell was completely packed, and behind her she could hear the other guards catching up.

  
Uh oh.

  
“This is crazy,” she told herself breathlessly, staring at the men ahead of her. She was doing this. She was really doing this.

  
“You are trespassing,” the nearest guard snarled at her. He had thick shoulders like the first one she encountered, but he was also trim, which meant he was likely solid muscle. Kara swallowed. Not like she couldn’t overpower him-- easily-- but she was going to make things ridiculously difficult for herself if she so much as hinted at it. She was supposed to be Kara Danvers, the meek reporter from CatCo who melted at kitten videos and pictures of baby pigeons.

  
“Would you believe me if I said I was lost?” she ventured with a weak smile.

  
“Not a chance,” he growled.

  
Kara held her hands up, one of them still holding the flowers. “Okay, okay,” she said, doing her best to look small. Her mind and heart were racing; what was she supposed to do now? Her plan was falling apart. She was never going to see Lena at this rate. Violence was completely out of the question, but she could hardly jump over their heads and insist it was just a well executed gymnastic technique. Kara didn’t even know gymnastics. “Sorry, I just really wanted to surprise Jess.”

  
“Right. The secretary,” the guard said, unamused and definitely not convinced.

  
“You don’t have to cuff me, right? Can we just go back down and pretend nothing happened?” She gave her best nervous laugh and glanced back down the stairwell, where the other guards were stalled, watching. The last thing she needed was to be publicly thrown out of L-CORP now. Snapper was going to k-i-l-l her.

  
One of the men grunted behind the first guard. “Don’t embarrass the kid, Miles. Take her through the elevator,” he said, and Kara shot him a dazzling smile of gratitude. “Unless you really want to hike down twenty floors.”

  
“She’s trespassing,” the guard named Miles snapped.

  
The other one shrugged. “I’m not arguing that. I’m just saying, maybe try not being a dick for thirty minutes out of your day. Elevator or not, you still get to toss her outside.”

  
Miles scowled. Kara held the flowers in front of her, smiling hopefully as she adjusted her glasses. After a brief moment of consideration, he clicked his tongue and jerked his chin toward floor twenty-three’s door behind her. “Get moving,” he demanded. He shot a sour look over his shoulder at the other guard, who responded with an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up.

  
Kara pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway. A tech-looking guy was walking toward her, but stopped as soon as he saw the four men file in from the stairs.  
“Uh, is everything okay?” the tech asked curiously, eyeing Kara with a quirked brow. He was holding a tablet in one hand, and looked as if he’d been typing in notes on his walk. She saw his glance drop down to the lilies she held. He blinked. “Who are those for?”

  
“Don’t worry about it,” Miles said roughly. “She was just leaving.”

  
“Oh-- sure--” he said quickly, all but jumping to the side of the walkway as Miles strode forward. Kara turned as she passed him and gave a small wave… and realized she still had a chance.

  
With Miles at the front, the remaining three men had allowed a clear pathway directly through the center as they moved to flank the sides of the hallway. The door to the stairwell was painfully unguarded, and a quick x-ray check confirmed that the guards from the other floors had returned to their posts with the impression that the trespasser had been caught. Kara sucked in a breath.

  
Yep. She was really, really doing this.

  
“I am so sorry,” she said to the tech guy in a low voice. He looked up at her quizzically, and then squawked as she grabbed him by the front of the shirt and forcibly yanked him into the middle of the guards, knocking a couple of them off balance like bowling pins. “So, SO sorry!”

  
Kara took this chance to duck around the techie as the guards whirled to grab her. The poor guy flailed miserably, dropping his tablet in the midst of the commotion. A guard stepped on it by mistake and slipped. It was the guard that had convinced Miles not to haul her downstairs like a common street rat; she squeaked out another “I’m sorry!” as she vaulted over his backside and ran like the blazes for the stairwell.

  
All the while, she heard Miles swearing loudly in multiple languages behind her. She cringed and tried not to think of what he would do once he caught up.

  
She really, _really_ hoped Lena would see her today.


	3. Chapter 3

Kara yanked open the stairwell door and darted up the remaining floors as quickly as humanly possible (which took much restraint on her part). As soon as she reached the final landing with a door marked twenty-five in large, bold digits, Kara paused to check that she didn’t appear as disheveled as she felt. A couple of the lily petals were bent, and she tried to smooth them out (as well as her hair-- it was a mess after the...incident with the guards) before taking a deep breath and walking through the door to Lena’s floor.

  
Jess didn’t look up at first. She was scribbling something quickly on a piece of paper, and almost didn’t notice Kara standing there holding a bunch of flowers. A beat passed, and then Jess glanced up, as if expecting to see some errand boy instead of Kara Danvers, the reporter from CatCo. She did a double take, eyes wide.

  
“Ms. Danvers! How-- what--” She sputtered at first, looking quickly to the elevators and then to the small alcove that hid the stairwell doors behind Kara. She got to her feet quickly. “You can’t be here!” Her hand shot over to the phone on her desk and she began to hastily punch in several keys as she lifted the phone to her ear.

  
“Wait, please don’t!” Kara pleaded, taking several steps toward Jess’s desk. “I’m not here to cause trouble, I promise!”

  
“You can’t be here,” the secretary repeated firmly, though her hand did pause over the keypad. She glanced again at the elevators, and Kara could see guarded confusion pinch at her brow.

  
Kara unshouldered her purse and dumped it at the foot of Jess’s desk. “Look, see? I’m not here for work or anything. I just want to see Lena. Please.”

  
Jess glanced down at the floor where Kara deposited her belongings. Her gaze narrowed. “Ms. Luthor is very busy,” she said coldly, “and I’m afraid she’s not taking appointments right now. Come back when you’re welcome.”

  
Kara didn’t miss the sting in Jess’s tone and winced. She held out the lilies, which despite a few crumpled petals, still looked as dazzling as when Kara spied them on the florist cart. “Just five minutes. Please, Jess. I just want to make sure--”

  
The stairwell door flew open with a loud bang. Kara jumped and spun around to see Miles advancing from the stairs looking every bit of an enraged rhinoceros. She whipped back around to Jess, panic rocketing through her.

  
“Please, _please_ Jess, can you just tell her-- _agh!_ ” Miles snatched Kara from behind with both arms and hefted her off the ground. Immediately Kara kicked out her feet with a squeal, but being that Miles was at least a foot-- if not maybe two, because jeez this guy was big-- taller than her, she kicked at empty air like a child throwing a tantrum. “Let--me--go!” The intensity of her urge to throw off his grip with her super strength was staggering, but somehow she held it at bay and allowed him to carry her back a few steps, her legs still dangling uselessly. The lilies had been crushed under Miles’s arms. As she struggled, she watched the flowers fall limply to the ground. Tears prickled unexpectedly at the corners of her eyes at the sight of them.

  
White light suddenly cut across the office floor.

  
“What is this?” Kara jerked at the sound of Lena’s sharp voice as it echoed around them. Everyone froze; all eyes swiveled over to Lena standing in the doorway to her office. She had one hand on the door handle and her sea-green eyes were hard as they pinned on Miles holding Kara aloft. Slowly, the guard unraveled his arms from around Kara’s middle and she slid onto her feet.

  
Kara readjusted her glasses and caught her breath. Lena’s dark hair spilled down over her shoulders and chest, and she wore a simple black dress that did everything to emphasize the curve of her hips and the dip of her waist. A small chain necklace dropped a silver pearl against her throat. What caught Kara’s attention most, however, was the icy fury in her stare as she regarded them.

  
Kara wasn’t sure who it was directed at. She swallowed hard.

  
“Ms. Danvers-- she-- got past--” Jess started quickly, slamming the phone back into the receiver. “I already told her--”

  
“I am well aware, Jess. I heard,” Lena interrupted, steel in her voice. Her eyes didn’t leave Kara’s face. There was a tick in her jaw that Kara didn’t miss, and Kara wondered if coming here had maybe made everything worse instead. Maybe Lena really didn’t care to see her ever again. For what reason though, Kara couldn’t understand.

  
Miles took a step forward and cleared his throat. He placed a heavy hand on Kara’s shoulder and said, “I can escort her downstairs, Ms. Luthor. No more disruptions, I promise. Sorry to bother you.” His grip tightened, as if beckoning Kara to follow.

  
Kara’s face fell. She looked away from Lena and back to the flowers on the ground.

  
So much for being a good friend.

  
“I think that’s quite enough of that, sir,” came Lena’s voice, softer this time, though no less commanding. When Kara looked back up, Lena’s jaw was no longer clenched. She made a small gesture toward her office with her free hand. “Since she’s come all this way, she can come inside.”

  
Miles stared. “Miss-?”

  
The look she fixed him with made Kara’s skin crawl. He cleared his throat, removed his hand from Kara’s shoulder, and added, “Nevermind. I’ll be here if you need me.” Without awaiting his dismissal-- though Lena’s gaze certainly suggested it-- he made for the stairwell and disappeared around the corner.

  
Kara crouched down and picked up the discarded lilies on the ground. Some of them were still salvageable, though many of the petals now were badly mutilated or broken off altogether. One lily, however, was still miraculously intact. Kara cupped it gently in her hands and held it close to herself as she rose to her feet again.

  
“I brought you flowers,” she said, stepping after Lena as the latter moved deeper into her office. Jess closed the door behind them. “But, well…”

  
Lena was quiet for a long moment. She had moved behind her desk, just like the last time Kara had been in her office. But instead of sitting down, she circled around the other side and came over to where Kara stood with the defeated lilies in hand.

  
“Stargazer lilies?” she questioned, a slight tilt to her head. She studied the bloom in Kara’s hand closely. The sharpness was gone from her voice, but the guard of it was still there. Still strong. “Why those, if I may ask?”

  
Kara kept her gaze on the flowers, too. Tried not to stare at Lena. “They-- well, I wanted to bring you something nice. And I saw these at the--that flower cart on the corner, and they just-- I just thought of you, when I saw them,” she said, smiling sadly at the lily she held. It really was a gorgeous flower. The white around the edge of its petals was impossibly pure and silky, while the center bled a gentle sunset-pink toward the filaments. Darker flecks of ruby spackled the petals like freckles.

  
A jolt went through Kara as Lena’s fingers brushed against her hands. Lena gently took the flower into her own hands and said, with a small smile, “Thank you, Kara. They’re beautiful.”

  
Kara tried to get the “You’re welcome” to pass her lips, but for some reason the words remained stuck in her throat.

  
Lena returned to her desk and placed the lily beside the mound of papers stacked neatly in several piles across it. She lowered herself into her seat and folded her hands together, leaning her chin atop her crossed fingers. She regarded Kara silently for another moment. Finally, she motioned at one of the chairs in front of her desk, and Kara sat down quickly.

  
“So,” Lena started, and Kara braced herself for whatever accusation Lena might have felt to throw at her, “How did you get past the guards, anyway?”

  
Kara blinked. “Oh-- how-- uh,” she said, scratching at her nose. “Um, I was just really determined, I guess. I’m faster than I look. Also I think one of your tech support guys probably hates me now. I might have used him as an impromptu bowling ball.”

  
A neatly manicured eyebrow arched on Lena’s face. “Is that what they’re teaching you over at CatCo, now?” she asked, and just barely Kara could see the upturn to the corner of Lena’s mouth where a smile crept.

  
Kara ducked her head with a short, embarrassed laugh. “No-- no. I’m not here to be a reporter.”

  
Lena leaned back. “Really. What are you here for, then?” There was a slight edge to her voice this time, as if preparing for something unexpected. Something unpleasant. It made Kara’s heart hurt.

  
_Be honest_ , Kara reminded herself. She stared down at her hands as she fidgeted. “Okay, that’s not...that’s not entirely true,” Kara admitted quietly. Lena made no motion, and when Kara looked up, Lena’s face was impassive. It reminded Kara of when she’d locked eyes with her as Supergirl, back when Lena had rendered the Medusa virus inert by deceiving her mother. A blank wall. “I was told to come here to get an interview, just like every other reporter in the city.”

  
“I’m not doing interviews,” Lena said, coolly in a way that made Kara’s chest clench.

  
“I know-- I know. I’m not asking you for one. I won’t ask you for one,” she said quickly, lifting her hands, palms out. “I just didn’t want you to think I was hiding that from you. I don’t want you to think that I’m going behind your back or trying to get something from you. You’re my friend, Lena. I wanted-- I just wanted to know that you were okay.”

  
The silence that followed was weighted. Kara tried not to shift in her chair, because she didn’t want Lena to know how uneasy this made her. Not that Lena made her uneasy. Lena was bright and brilliant, and in their previous encounters she’d filled Kara with a sense of accomplishment and pride that Kara hadn’t really felt except for when she was Supergirl. But Lena knew her as Kara Danvers first, not Supergirl, and somehow made an amatuer reporter feel as grand as their alien heroine. It was in the way that Lena listened. The way she turned fully toward her when Kara spoke, in the unbroken eye contact she held that made Kara feel like everything she had to say was interesting and worth listening to. She had the rare ability to command a conversation at every turn, yet to Kara, Lena treated her as a valued equal, despite the fact that Kara felt barely a quarter of the confidence Lena exuded when in the scrutiny of the public eye. Private conversations were no different.

  
It was the teetering possibility that Kara’s friendship was no longer needed or wanted that made Kara feel like melting into the floor in that moment. The fact that Kara could not read the emotion in Lena’s eyes right then bothered her more than she anticipated. Last week, under the threat of Medusa, Kara had seen Lena laid out and bare when she’d confronted her about Lillian. Raw, pure, real emotion.

  
Now it was like Lena had found another lead wall to hide herself behind. The blue-green of her eyes reminded Kara of an ocean storm falling to a still after a turbulent wave. But like the ocean, her eyes were cold and impossibly deep, fathomless, promising to drown her if Kara strayed too far.

  
Lena tapped a fingernail against her desk thoughtfully. “You broke through security twice, knocked over a technician to escape the guards, and barged into my office just to ask how I was doing?” She spoke lightly this time, as if she were concealing some amusement, but Kara didn’t miss the slight raise of her eyebrow and the purse of her red lips. Like she didn’t believe Kara cared that much about her at all-- that maybe Kara was lying, and was only there to dig for the next scoop.

  
Kara lifted her chin and met Lena’s powerful gaze evenly. “Yes,” she answered, and in that word she felt Supergirl’s conviction and strength flowing through. “I’d do that and more for any of my friends. For you. And I’ll do it again, if I have to. I’ll do anything.” She paused, faintly surprised at herself, and blinked before clearing her throat and nodding her head. Kara meant every word and only hoped Lena could hear the sincerity she had poured into them. She folded her hands back into her lap and added softly, “I’m not sure what I did, but I’d like to make it up to you, Lena. Please.”

  
There. Something in Lena’s gaze flickered. Uncertainty, perhaps? Her lips parted, prepared to speak, but it was a long moment before she said anything.  
“You are entirely too sweet,” was the response, and in it Kara heard a lilt of sadness. It sounded oddly beautiful with her gentle accent.

  
“I’m sorry,” Kara said automatically.

  
Lena shook her head. A smile, a real one this time, broke gently over her mouth. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel like you did something wrong.”

  
Kara glanced down at her hands. “Is it because...because of the article I was writing?” she asked, “the one about mothers?”

  
She was going to take Lena’s silence as confirmation, but then Lena said, “No. It’s not that.”

  
Kara frowned. She’d given it more thought than most anything else lately. What else could she have done, or said, to make Lena so indifferent toward her?

  
“But while we’re on the subject,” Lena continued, leaning forward slightly. Her gaze became hard again. “Were you aware of my mother’s involvement with CADMUS before you came to me for the interview?”

  
She wanted to shrink back from the intensity of Lena’s gaze. Kara lifted her head, inhaled deeply, and said carefully, “I had...suspicions. I wanted to see if maybe there was anything you could tell me that would confirm it.”

  
“You wanted to know if I was a part of CADMUS, too,” Lena clarified flatly, but Kara shook her head.

  
“No. I knew you weren’t apart of it,” she responded. “Not everyone did, though. I wanted to make sure there was no doubt for anyone else. But I believed in you-- I still do.”

  
A laugh escaped Lena. It was quick, almost harsh sounding. “You sound just like Supergirl,” Lena said, glancing away from Kara’s face. She looked distant for a moment, as if lost in a memory.

  
Kara stiffened. “Oh, I-- I do?”

  
Lena’s gaze swiveled back over to her. “Yes. The night of the...virus attack, she came here. Saved my life from a terrorist-- again. And then she gave me some spiel about becoming my own hero.”

  
Confusion settled over Kara. This didn’t sound right. Lena almost seemed like she was holding a grudge against Supergirl. Like Supergirl had done something wrong by trying to warn her. There was a change in Lena then; Kara could see a small tremble in her hands. Her breath sounded shallow. “Wait, but you did though,” Kara said, taken aback by her reaction, “You stopped your mo-- uh, Lillian from killing thousands of people. That’s like, the definition of a hero.”

  
Lena’s stare unnerved Kara. It was empty, almost. “Does it still count as heroic if I almost didn’t do it?” she whispered. Kara could hear her heart fluttering from across the desk. Wild. Frightened. Much different than the steady thrum it had kept until that moment. It was not the nervous flit of someone revealing a dark secret, but of someone afraid of what that secret contained. There was legitimate, tangible apprehension in her words and in the rigidity of her spine. She’d grown paler in those last few seconds, and the sudden shift sent Kara’s mind reeling.

  
“Lena,” Kara said, softly, gently, leaning closer to the desk. Lena’s eyes fluttered closed at the sound of her name and she lifted a slender hand to press her fingertips against the center of her forehead. “Lena, hey.”

  
When she finally looked back up, Kara was startled to see wetness lining the corners of her eyes.

  
“You are not a bad person,” Kara said firmly, searching Lena’s face. Hoping to find something to anchor herself to before Lena’s fear consumed her. “You made the right decision. I knew you would, and so did Supergirl.”

  
A flicker of something surfaced again in Lena. Kara couldn’t tell what it was, and after a moment it was masked by Lena’s indifference again, like a switch. The fear vanished along with it. She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes with a the pad of a finger. “Pardon my… state. This past week has been more stressful than I am accustomed to,” she said, busying her hands by shuffling the piles of paper on her desk into straighter stacks. She didn’t look up.

  
Kara wasn’t sure what to make of Lena’s behavior. Something else was going on, she could tell-- something concerning her mother, likely, or CADMUS. Lena was an expert at handling stress. She ran a multi-million engineering empire with a tainted name, for god’s sake. Hell, she probably could have handled being Supergirl better than Kara did. Typical stress wouldn’t break her like this.

  
The atmosphere changed in the room. Kara slowly rose to her feet, uncertain. “I can see that you’re busy,” she said, “so thank you for letting me see you today. I’m glad you’re okay-- or, getting there.” She didn’t want to pretend like everything was fine, as obviously something was definitely not fine with Lena. But she wasn’t going to push her farther than Lena was willing to go. Kara turned for the door, and then paused and glanced back over her shoulder. “If you need something, Lena…” Kara waited until Lena met her gaze again, and then finished, “Please let me know. I’d like to help, if you need it.”

  
To her surprise, a smile surfaced. “Thank you, Kara. But I think there’s only room for one Supergirl in this city,” Lena answered with a soft laugh, and Kara was glad to see the smile reached her eyes this time. All evidence of Lena’s fright had completely disappeared.

  
“You should talk to her, you know. She’s worried about you.”

  
Lena tilted her head slightly. “Is that why she flies by my office every evening before dusk?”

  
Kara felt her cheeks go pink. “I-- maybe, I don’t know. She doesn’t tell me _everything._ ”

  
“She certainly tells you a lot,” Lena commented, though it was more of an observation than an accusation. “Maybe we should consider you the Jimmy Olsen of National City.”

  
Kara smiled. “I’d rather be Kara Danvers, I think. I’ve found comparing myself to others only keeps me from being true to myself.” Okay, maybe that was a little pointed, but it worked. She saw a spark in Lena’s eyes. Her smile grew. “Have a good rest of your day, Ms. Luthor. Maybe I’ll get to see you again soon sometime?”

  
A chuckle rose from Lena. “We’ll see, Kara.”

  
Kara closed the door behind her and nodded when Jess looked up from her desk. Miles was nowhere to be seen, and Jess gave a reluctant half-wave as Kara gathered her things and headed for the elevator.

 

That evening, as the sunset dragged rose-gold down the horizon, Supergirl weaved through the towering skyscrapers of National City until L-CORP loomed close. The lead curtains were still drawn. She slowed as she neared the building until she hovered in front of the main window of Lena’s office in plain view.

  
Kara didn’t dare knock on the window or even drop onto the balcony. Lena Luthor needed space from Supergirl, she’d made that much apparent. But Kara was determined to show her that Supergirl was not going to abandon her now. Not ever.  
She cared, damn it. She cared more than Lena could possibly know.

As Kara flew home, she began to wonder to herself just how much that was.


	4. Chapter 4

It was three days before Kara heard from Lena. In that time, she’d managed to scrape up a few pieces on Supergirl’s activities since Medusa, and while that wasn’t much considering how quiet the city had been since then, Snapper only accepted it because she’d also included a few quotes from Guardian. The city’s resident vigilante was more difficult to get ahold of than she imagined, and it frankly annoyed her that she had to resort to his help with her regular human job, too.

  
She was in the middle of groaning to Alex about the entire ordeal when her phone beeped against her ear. As soon as she saw the name light up on the screen, she barked, “Oh, gotta go! Bye Alex!” into the phone and swiped to answer Lena’s call with haste.

  
“Hi!” she greeted breathily, pausing on the outer steps of CatCo’s front entrance. Midday sun streamed down on her, warming her skin through the light blue sweater she wore and rejuvenating the dulled energy she’d been surviving on all morning. A small rush of cool air brushed past her, and Kara exhaled happily at the sensation of it filling her lungs. Just off in the horizon, she spied a cluster of cotton-ball clouds piling high into fun, fluffy shapes-- one of which resembled a unicorn, she thought. When a small child went suddenly scampering in front of her, she danced out of his way with a delighted, “Oh!” and laughed when he grinned over his shoulder and playfully stuck out his tongue at her.

  
“Good afternoon, Ms. Danvers,” came Lena Luthor’s smooth voice through the earpiece. She sounded amused. “Have I caught you at a bad time?”

  
“What? Oh, no! I’m just enjoying being out of the office for a minute,” Kara answered brightly, careful to watch her step as a group of similarly aged children raced past. They were all wearing the same bright green shirt, emblazoned with ‘Superkidz Super School’ across the back and a miniature version of the House of El’s crest. She smirked at the sight. “What can I do for you, Lena?”

  
Lena laughed. It sounded like sunshine. “I’m not calling for a favor, Kara. I wanted to see if perhaps you were free for a while to meet me for lunch.”

  
“Oh, I-- oh!” Kara halted abruptly. She hadn’t been expecting to hear from Lena today, much less be invited out to lunch. This was the most pleasant surprise she’d received all week. Or month. “I would love to!”

  
“Wonderful,” Lena purred. “Can you make it to Fourth and Clementine? I could have my driver pick you up if not.”

  
Kara peered in the direction of the streets she mentioned. They weren’t terribly close, maybe a fifteen minute drive. She hadn’t memorized the bus schedule well enough to figure out the routes in a timely manner. “No, no, that’s okay,” she said, glancing down at her watch. “I can be there in ten.”

  
“Perfect. There’s a place called The Bay Grill on the corner. It shares a wall with a jewelry store,” Lena explained. “Tell the host you’re at my table and he’ll see you right in.”

  
Kara knew that place. She’d made reservations for Cat Grant there several times in the past, but it was an expensive venue that required a paygrade much more substantial than what Kara received. She hesitated a moment, and then heard herself say, “Sounds great. I’ll see you in a few!”

  
As she hung up the phone, Kara scrunched her nose and tapped the screen against her chin. Well, she supposed she was overdue for a nice treat. Maybe this would just count as her treat-yo-self for the next month or three. Besides, Lena would be there, which meant that even if all she could afford was a fancy glass of water and bread for the table, it would be worthwhile. Maybe Lena was ready to open up to her a little.

  
Kara eased herself into the flow of the crowd and ducked into an alley after a minute. Once she was certain there were no cameras or passerby around to notice, she pulled away the Kara Danver’s outfit of choice and let the wind stroke through Supergirl’s heavy cape. Her glasses were tucked into her purse before she took to the skies and shot through the city toward Fourth and Clementine.

  
There was something about today that just felt so...right. Kara couldn’t imagine what put it apart from any other day, but as she flew, she beamed down at her city below and felt a rush of affection at the sparkling buildings peppered with trees and rushing cars. This was her city, her home, and she would give everything to make sure it remained safe. Of course she would always miss Krypton. Nothing could quite compare to the auburn skies and the spiraling towers of her old home. Somehow, though, Earth was just so much more _her_. The wind, the grass, the smell of the ocean spray as it skimmed off the cresting waves, the sunshine that filled her bones with joy and strength. Kara took a deep breath as she slowed, allowing the air to pull into her chest until her lungs ached with the chill of it. What she loved most about Earth, though, was the people who lived in it. In her city. She exhaled with a smile and thought of all of the faces she’d grown to adore since her dying planet had delivered her here.

  
Winn, her steadfast friend who’d never given up on her despite how rocky it could be to be bestfriends with a superpowered alien. James, who was her anchor and support through thick and thin, even if they had some hiccups along the way. Of course, without Cat, Kara wouldn’t be where she was today. Wouldn’t be the hero she was today. There was always Alex to depend on, and Hank-- J’onn-- had settled in Kara’s heart as a sort of alien guardian-- father, almost, though she shied away from that word altogether, given her history with it-- to give her comfort when her human friends and family didn’t quite understand the shattering pain that sometimes woke her dead in the night, gulping for air through broken sobs. Mon-El was special in his own right. Even if he was from Daxam, she took a certain pleasure in the company of someone who understood what it meant to miss the deep, soul-touching warmth of Rao’s red light.

  
And then there was Lena Luthor. (Kara tried not to wonder why her breath seized at the thought.)

  
When Kara touched back down into an empty alley a block away from The Bay Grill, she hastily reverted her outfit and trotted out onto the sidewalk as if she hadn’t just been changing her clothes behind a dumpster. She continued to think about her friends and family as she walked through the front doors of the restaurant, a distant smile etched across her face.

  
“Can I help you?”

  
Kara blinked and became cognizant of the host regarding her over the podium with a strange look. She realized, then, that she’d never actually been inside of The Bay Grill, and immediately became alarmed that she’d walked into the wrong place. Or maybe he thought she was lost.

  
“Oh--um, this is The Bay Grill, right?” she said quickly, looking around for confirmation. “I’m here to-- to meet Ms. Luthor. For a meeting. At lunch.”

  
It took the gentleman a moment to absorb Kara’s nervous jumble. “Apologies, miss,” he said, stepping out from behind the podium. He still had an odd expression on his face as he looked at her. “This way, please.”

  
Kara followed after him and tried not to make eye contact with the guests seated in plush booths along the way. None of them looked up at her, however, until the host gestured toward the very back of the venue and said, “Ms. Luthor’s table is at the far end.” That got some attention. Kara ducked her head slightly when she noticed a few others swivel in their seats at the mention of Lena’s family name. Even if this place only served the wealthiest of guests, Kara had to remind herself that there were very few people above Lena’s financial and social prowess.

  
She heard Lena before she saw her. The tables were like a maze as the host led her through, but it wasn’t long before she heard a soft chuckle and a murmured, “Don’t be a fool, Chavez. She’d find a way through even if you actually tried to secure the perimeter. She’s smart.”

  
Kara found herself desperately wondering who Lena was talking about.

  
A moment later, as the host approached a large booth nestled in the back corner, Kara saw a head of dark hair pulled into a well-crafted, loose bun. Lena’s back was toward her as she spoke to someone across the table: a man with a shiny bald head and beady dark eyes. He was staring at Lena with the look of someone waiting to be told whether they were being fired or promoted. Kara couldn’t tell if he was happy or not, or if he even felt emotion.

  
The host stopped at the edge of the booth before Kara could move into view. “Ms. Luthor, your…” he hesitated and glanced over at Kara with an expectant raise of an eyebrow.  
“Oh! Kara!” she pipped immediately.

  
“...Your _Kara_ is here,” he finished, and Lena’s hair moved as she turned to look.

  
Almost instantly, Lena’s expression brightened and a wide smile spread over her mouth. She let out a burst of light laughter and reached out to Kara’s face when she moved closer to the booth. “Oh, Kara, your hair!” she said, laughing still. Kara’s face went pink as Lena’s soft touch smoothed back what she could only imagine was a wind-whipped mess. She tried not to think of the warmth coiling through her at Lena’s fingers tucking the hair behind her ears. “What, did you ride over on a bicycle without a helmet?”

  
She’d completely forgotten to fix her hair after flying over. “I-- uh, no, I took a--a taxi,” she said, trying to let out a laugh and only managing to achieve a partial one, “It’s such a nice day out, I wanted to have the windows rolled down.”

  
The man across the table from Lena gazed over at Kara. His eyes were so dark, Kara wasn’t sure if he actually had any pupils. He said nothing to her and slid out of the seat, only nodding once at Lena before taking up a station at the edge of the booth. As soon as he folded his arms across his chest and stared out at the rest of the restaurant, Lena gestured at his empty seat with a small wave of her hand.

  
“Sit, sit,” she said, and Kara scooted into the booth on the other side of the table. The seat was warm. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

  
Lena was wearing a pantsuit today. The front of the blazer was open to reveal a white collared shirt she wore beneath. The first few buttons of the shirt were unfastened, leaving a plunging neckline from the sharp edge of her jaw to the soft curve of her throat where it dipped into her collarbone and below. Diamond studs sparkled in her earlobes, and the make-up she wore was minimal by use of a little eyeliner and well-manicured eyebrows. No red lipstick today-- none at all, in fact.

  
“Thanks for inviting me,” Kara answered, a little awed by Lena’s appearance. She radiated power; every shift of her shoulder and tilt of her head made Kara think she was watching a lioness positioning herself on the edge of a ravine, ready to pounce. Kara wanted to know how she did it. Whenever Kara tried going the “natural” route, she ended up looking like an apathetic college student that didn’t get enough sleep. “Sorry I didn’t bring any flowers this time.”

  
Lena’s smile remained. Kara wondered how she managed to keep her teeth so white. “You don’t have to flatter me every time we meet, Kara,” she chuckled. She reached out to grab the crystal pitcher of water on the table and poured some into the empty glass by Kara’s hand. “You’re going to spoil me.”

  
“I’m happy to,” Kara said, smiling back at her. She took a sip of the water and thought it might have been the best water she’d ever tasted in her life.

  
The laugh returned. “Like I said, you’re entirely too sweet.” Lena shook her head, and then folded her arms on top of the table and leaned over them. “Listen,” she said, in a slightly softer voice. Kara instinctively moved closer. “Thank you for coming to see me. I appreciate it after all the trouble I put you through.”

  
Kara looked puzzled for a moment. “You mean the guards?” She snorted with a laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, that wasn’t a big deal--” She stopped, then added quickly, “I mean, it wasn’t that easy, but it really wasn’t that much trouble, and I would totally do it again--”

  
“Not just that,” Lena said, and Kara fell quiet at the emotion edging just barely into her words. Lena pulled her bottom lip behind her teeth, sighed, and then continued, “I told you once that you were my only friend, and it’s true. But I haven’t treated you that way since...everything that happened. I’ve been secretive, and--and scared. I didn’t mean to get you caught up in that. I’m sorry.”

  
Kara gazed at Lena for a long minute. She wanted to ask what Lena was so scared of-- because when she had mentioned it, Kara saw a flicker of trepidation arise in the depths of Lena’s gray-green eyes-- but she had a feeling that pushing for details would only send Lena back into the confines of her office, cut off and avoidant. Still, Kara wanted to somehow assuage the fear bubbling in the woman sitting across the table. It was a sudden, fierce desire that surprised Kara with its intensity.

  
“Whatever happened,” Kara started, slowly, kindly, as she placed her cup back on the table, “I don’t blame you for anything. I’m sure you have your reasons for keeping to yourself, and if you still need to, I understand. Even if it means I have to jump a few guards every now and then to check in on you.”

  
There was an ache in the smile that Lena gave her this time. At this, Kara suddenly wondered if Lena had ever heard words of support and encouragement before. Had ever had someone believe in her. The possibility of it made her chest tighten. When Lena finally broke eye contact and looked out toward the rest of the restaurant, Kara saw her swallow back whatever words might have been building on her tongue.

  
“You must be hungry,” Lena said out of nowhere, lifting up a hand to catch the attention of the waiter strolling past a few tables down. “What would you like, Kara?”

  
There was that switch again. The abrupt, inexplicable shift from one side of Lena to another, as if she had yanked down a mask and pretended nothing existed beneath it. Kara was both baffled and impressed. If she’d had the emotional control and finesse of Lena Luthor, Supergirl would have had a much smoother emergence as a hero.

  
“I--ah-- is there a menu?” she asked, uncertain. There were none on the table, and she realized that Lena must have frequented the establishment enough not to need one.

  
“Oh, of course. Justin? A menu, please, for my friend.”

  
The waiter appeared quickly at Lena’s summons, and at her instruction he dipped away to retrieve a menu. As soon as he returned and placed it into Kara’s hands, her eyes bulged.

  
Lena reached over and pulled down the menu from Kara’s face with the tip of her finger. “Get whatever you want, Kara, it’s my treat,” she said, smiling at the “o” shape of Kara’s mouth.

  
“No, no, it’s fine, that’s not necessary,” Kara said, in a pitch a few octaves higher than normal. She tried to laugh it off, and it came out strained. “Maybe I’ll get this-- um-- caprese... _wow_..”

  
“Kara,” Lena emphasized, “I wouldn’t bring you to a place like this and expect you to pay for yourself. I’ll order one of everything if you’d like.”

  
“That’s really not necessary,” Kara said, though in the back of her mind she knew she could finish it all off without issue. She wasn’t going to tell Lena that, though. She squinted closer at the menu. “How about this...duck...confetti...thing?”

  
Lena chuckled. “ _Confit de canard_ is a wonderful choice,” she said, and then turned to Justin. “I’ll take the _Coq au vin_ , please.”

  
Kara stared. “Do you speak French?” she asked, as Justin took the menu and drifted off in the direction of the kitchens.

  
“Yes. And German, Italian, Portuguese. I know American Sign Language, though I’m not terribly good at it since it requires so much expression,” Lena answered, shrugging lightly. “I used to speak Irish Gaelic, but I’m severely out of practice.”

  
“Wow. That’s-- wow. I had no idea.”

  
Another server stopped by and slid a dark drink in front of Lena. She stirred the straw with a single finger. “I don’t talk about myself much outside of my business,” she admitted, “and mostly I use them to talk to investors and shareholders outside of the country, or who don’t speak English comfortably. I had to learn when I was younger at boarding school. Do you speak anything else?”

  
Kara had to hold her tongue. Confessing that she was fluent in the language of a nearly-extinct alien race and several others was just asking for trouble. “I took Spanish in high school,” she answered, pushing her glasses farther up her nose. “Can’t say I’m exactly bilingual, though, when most of the time I can only remember how to ask if I can use the restroom.” That wasn’t true. Kara absorbed languages like a sponge; she remembered every lesson from that Spanish class like she’d taken them yesterday. It helped greatly when saving citizens who had too much trouble with conversational English. Proper accents, however, were completely lost on her.

  
The corner of Lena’s mouth quirked up. She tilted her head slightly. “Would you want to learn another language some time?” she asked, bringing her drink to her mouth to take a quick sip before adding, “I think you’d be brilliant at it.”

  
“Maybe-- maybe an alien language,” Kara said, shrugging. That was innocent enough, right? She tried to pretend that her cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt.

  
Lena paused, and then smiled. “That would be quite interesting,” she remarked, nodding slightly. She looked out toward the rest of the dining space. A television was mounted in the corner on the far wall above a bar that was not in use. It was turned off, though Kara noted a remote control had been left on the counter nearby. Lena wasn’t looking in that direction, however. When Kara followed her line of sight, she realized Lena was staring at a picture of Supergirl that had been framed and hung on the adjacent wall.

  
“Have you talked to Supergirl yet?” Kara ventured after a moment, and Lena immediately turned away from the picture as if she hadn’t seen it.

  
“No,” she said, a little too sharply. She cleared her throat, as if realizing how harsh she sounded, and repeated in a more mild tone, “No, I haven’t.”

  
“Can I ask why?”

  
Lena was stiff for a minute. She took a swig of her drink and then murmured, “It’s complicated. I hardly think she trusts me enough for a chat, with all the surveillance she has on me.”

  
“That’s not true,” Kara said immediately, and then curled her hand into a fist underneath the table. Damn it. She needed to keep her cool. As much as she was dying to fix whatever had broken between Lena and Supergirl, she couldn’t risk her identity. Not yet.

  
Lena scoffed. She didn’t seem to notice Kara’s twitch. “Flying by my building every day to keep an eye on me isn’t much in the way of friendly conversation,” she said, swirling her drink in her hand. “Do you know how many times I’ve been questioned by police since CADMUS? Three. Not once has she said anything in my defense.” There was bitterness lacing her voice, but it wasn’t angry. It was the bitterness of someone who had expected to be let down and was still disappointed anyway.

  
Kara’s heart sank through her stomach like a steel lump. This was _not_ how this conversation was supposed to go. Just the other day, Lena had sounded like she enjoyed Supergirl’s fly-by visits. Now she seemed upset by it. “She was giving you a chance to come forward yourself!” she heard herself say loudly, gripping the table just tight enough that she felt the wood start to splinter beneath her fingers. She was desperate to amend whatever she’d done wrong as Supergirl, and not just because she _was_ Supergirl-- she had to show Lena that she was mistaken, that Supergirl trusted her above anything else. Kara made a noise of frustration and forced herself to let go of the table before she did any noticeable damage. “She thought-- she wanted you to have an opportunity to-- to defend yourself! To show everyone that the Luthors aren’t--”

  
“--entirely evil? How noble of her,” Lena cut in dryly. Kara could see her jaw clench.

  
Rao, why was she so stubborn? Kara wanted to rub at her head from the ache this was beginning to give her. Why couldn’t she just see that Supergirl wanted to help? That Supergirl would do anything for her, if she would only ask?

  
Kara was watching Lena so intently that she almost didn’t realize the food had arrived. She leaned back as Justin placed a steaming plate in front of her, and then a small black pot in front of Lena. The smell of both dishes made her mouth water.

  
Lena blinked away whatever tension had been boiling within her during their conversation. She brightened up instantly at the sight of the food. “I hope you like it, Kara,” she said, the warmth returning to her voice. It took Kara off guard.

  
“Uh--yeah, you too.”

  
They ate in silence for several minutes. The entire time, Kara wondered if Lena was going to talk to her again at all afterward. Lena kept her gaze downcast at her plate, looking contemplative, and Kara was itching to know what was going through her mind. Lena really was a master at disguising her emotions; she looked perfectly content sipping at her spoon, her face smooth and devoid of any hint of her thoughts. There was no flicker or flash or anything like what Kara could see before, and she knew Lena had closed herself off completely.

  
Kara lowered her fork slowly onto her plate and dropped her hands into her lap. The uneasiness she’d felt back in Lena’s office the other day was gripping at her stomach again. The looming dread that soon she’d find herself without Lena’s friendship at all. She wished she could call Alex right now and ask for advice.

  
“Kara?”

  
She looked up. Lena was gazing over at her, eyes wide and open with concern. She set her own utensils on the table and brought the napkin to her mouth. Kara placed her hands back onto the table and fidgeted with the corner of the bread basket cloth that rested between their plates.

  
“Is everything alright?” Lena asked softly, and it surprised Kara to hear genuine worry in her voice.

  
_Be honest_ , she reminded herself.

  
“No, not really,” she said quietly, touching the rim of her glasses as she stared down at her food. It was delicious, absolutely, and she wished she could finish it without this sick feeling in her gut.

  
She blinked, startled, when Lena’s hand cupped over hers on the table. The warmth of Lena’s touch made her mind still, as if everyone in the world collectively held their breaths. As if, just for a moment, the world outside had frozen just long enough for Kara’s thoughts to untangle themselves and catch up.

  
“I,” Kara started hesitantly, looking back up at Lena. There was that squeezing pain her lungs again, like the night Lena had saved the city by betraying her mother. “I just-- I feel like it’s not working. Like-- like I’m failing, like I’m losing you. I don’t know what to do. What I should do. I’m sorry.”

  
Lena’s fingers tightened ever so slightly over Kara’s. “Please don’t be sorry, Kara.” The gentleness in Lena was new. Like a crack had formed in the mask she wore. “I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel this way. It’s not fair that I’ve done this to you. I truly am sorry that I don’t know how to be a better friend.”

  
Kara was quick to cover Lena’s hand with her other. “Don’t blame yourself, please. Just-- I just want to understand. You’re so quick to shut yourself off that I don’t know how to respond. I don’t know how to be your friend.” There-- she said it. The second the words left her lips, Kara inhaled sharply. She moved to withdraw her hands from Lena’s, feeling embarrassed, but Lena held firmly to her.

  
“Kara, listen to me.” Lena’s eyes were powerful and held Kara like a spell. She was silent for a moment, and Kara could see her jaw working as if the words she wanted to use weren’t coming together quite right. Then, quietly, “I have-- for years-- been told how to fight down every last emotion I’ve ever had. Supergirl called my mother cold when she came to warn me, and she was right. That is how she taught me to behave as I grew up. That is how I am so used to protecting myself. And now-- now, when all of this…” She took a deep breath, and then continued, “After everything that’s happened, I was...frightened. And I didn’t know how to handle it, because I had no one left to tell me to suck it up and get over it.”

  
“That’s not healthy,” Kara said, frowning. Lena gave her a rueful smile.

  
“No, I suppose not. Much of what happened in my family was not...healthy,” she said, and Kara could hear in the strain in her voice. The reluctance. “I don’t claim to come from good people, but--”

  
“You are a good person, Lena,” Kara said, sternly gripping Lena’s hand between her own. “I know it.”

  
Lena watched her. Studied her as if something new had caught her attention, her own lips slightly parted as she looked at Kara. It felt like Lena could read every thought and hear every fluttered heartbeat that echoed within Kara right then.

  
She came acutely aware that several moments had passed between them during the stretch of silence. With a slight cough, Kara slid a hand away and brushed at the side of her ponytail. “Is-- is something wrong with my hair?” she asked, timid suddenly, unsure of what to make of the intrigue in Lena’s gaze.

  
“No...no,” Lena answered softly, though she offered no other explanation.

  
“Um-- then what--?” Kara was so concerned with why Lena was staring at that she almost missed the muffled voice of someone in the kitchen holler for the television, except it began to grow louder until she noticed a cook stride out from the back of the restaurant and to the bar that was unoccupied. In her peripheral, she saw him grab the television remote and raise it toward the screen.

  
“Look, Kara,” Lena said, and Kara refocused immediately on the woman across the table from her, who still had her hand over Kara’s. The mystified expression on her face was gone. Hidden by the mask. “Thank you, again, for coming to lunch with me. I have a meeting with Maxwell Lord at two that I should leave for soon. Can I give you a ride back to CatCo?”

  
“Maxwell Lord?” Kara repeated, bewildered. “What are you meeting with him for?”

  
“It’s...for a project I’m working on.” She didn’t miss the way Lena’s mouth tightened, or how she glanced away, or how the hand over her own had grown tense.

  
And then, suddenly, Lena was frozen.

  
Her eyes were blown wide, her body rigid. The same fear that Kara had seen in her eyes over a week ago during CADMUS and subsequently in flashes since then had free reign over Lena. Her heart was beating wild, like a caged animal, and Kara wasn’t certain that Lena was actually breathing.

  
She turned and looked over at the television where Lena’s stare was directed. The cook had turned it on and was staring up at it from the bar. Several other patrons had turned in their seats to look as well, and then slowly they began to shift to look over at where Kara and Lena sat.

  
There was Lena, standing perfectly poised on the television screen. She looked as cunning and brilliant as usual, but the smile she wore held an edge of danger that looked much more intimidating on her than Kara expected. Her hair was up in a neat braided bun, and she wore a floral, slim-fitting dress much like the one she wore on the night of Medusa. In her hand she held a silver device that looked eerily familiar to Kara.

  
“Good afternoon, National City,” TV-Lena said, and the way she commanded the attention of everyone in the restaurant unnerved Kara, “I am Lena Luthor, the CEO of the esteemed L-CORP that has helped manufacture much of the cutting edge technology in our city to date. I come to you today to help solve a predicament that has plagued this city for longer than we have been aware of. Until recently, knowledge of alien activity has been limited to what we know of our neighboring Superman and now his cousin, Supergirl. Since their arrival, this nation has seen a surge in alien-centric attacks and violence. This puts us all in great danger. But, as seen recently, aliens are not the only ones willing to resort to drastic methods in order to bring terror to National City. As human and alien conflicts reach dangerous and potentially fatal levels, many innocent people are likely to be caught in the crossfire as collateral damage. I am here to hopefully prevent that from happening.”

  
TV-Lena paused for a moment, but Kara could not look away.

  
She continued, “As many of you know, I have developed new technology that would help expose those who would hide their true nature from us. This detection device would give us the ability to determine who is human and who is not, allowing us the freedom to make the right choice for our safety. It is painless, safe, and effective. My proposal is simple. By separating out the aliens from the humans, we can ensure our security-- and theirs-- so that these tensions no longer threaten to boil over into full-out war. It is very apparent that we cannot co-exist without putting both of our races in danger. Alien-specific sanctuaries will allow them to protect themselves and form their own communities without the threat of radical interference, and gives us the peace of mind necessary to maintain a functional and thriving environment for our future generations.” TV-Lena held up the detection device. It looked slightly different than when Lena had presented it to Kara initially back in her office weeks ago, but Kara couldn’t place what had changed. But then, TV-Lena and the device disappeared, only to be replaced by a large structure that resembled a metal detector.

  
“I have designed both portable devices for our law enforcement and freestanding detectors that will be placed at all major entrance and exits to National City. Rest assured that by removing the non-human visitors from our population and giving them their own space to occupy, we will guarantee that National City remains safe from both alien and anti-alien terrorist threats.” TV-Lena’s voice echoed around the restaurant, though her face did not reappear. In her stead, a rotating figure of L-CORP’s symbol sat center screen.

  
The Lena sitting across from Kara took a sharp, shaky breath and jerked her hand out from Kara’s. “I have to go,” she said, her voice hitched and broken. She was not trembling anymore; she looked numb, hollow almost, as she hurriedly gathered her things and exited the booth. Chavez followed closely behind her until they disappeared through the doors.

Kara remained seated in the booth, completely lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this will be the last time I update this rapidly, but I'll try for once a week if I can. Thanks for checking it out, everyone! It really means a lot to me. ♥


	5. Chapter 5

“She just _ditched_ you?”

  
Alex’s voice was piercing through the earpiece as Kara flew between the skyscrapers of National City. Kara scrunched her nose at the sound. Even though the lunch had been a couple hours ago (because how could she ignore Snapper roaring into her phone about “GET THAT EXCLUSIVE, DANVERS”), her ears felt like they were still ringing from Lena’s voice through the television and the sudden emptiness of the booth across from her. She’d fumbled out of her seat and scurried through the restaurant, dazed as she headed back to work. Snapper was none too pleased to see her back, so she’d stopped by the DEO, but they were too busy trying to track signals and frequencies to need much of her help. Alex had been off trying to investigate the so-called “sanctuaries” without Supergirl’s assistance. And Kara did not appreciate feeling useless, so she put herself on patrol to look out for anything suspicious. Like giant metal detectors.

  
“Well it’s not like she left me with the bill. She has a tab,” Kara grumbled, squinting against the winds. The clouds she’d seen on the horizon earlier were creeping closer to the city faster than she anticipated. They were cold, no longer white but a dark, ominous gray, and she could feel the promise of lightning as a charge prickling along the currents.

  
Alex sighed on the other line. The sharp, exasperated sigh that Kara knew all too well. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she scolded. “It is in fact a _terrible_ idea.”

  
Just beyond her sister, Kara heard Winn ask, “Wait, what’s not a good idea?”

  
“Don’t tell anyone,” Kara hissed, before Alex could get the words out of her mouth. “I don’t want J’onn showing up at L-CORP with a SWAT team just because I went over there to talk.”

  
“She just admitted on every screen across National City that she wants to implement a citywide alien segregation! He has every right to be concerned!” Alex barked back.

  
“What’s Kara doing?” Winn pressed in the background. He yelped suddenly, and Kara heard his chair rolling away.

  
Kara veered sharply through two apartment buildings that were dangerously close together, narrowly missing a clothing line and the shirt suspended from it. “That wasn’t her,” she ground out through clenched teeth. Why couldn’t anyone else understand? “I was with her when that clip aired. She was horrified by it.”

  
“She’s good at acting,” Alex insisted, huffing her breath. “Like, really good, Kara. She’s a--”

  
“Don’t say ‘Luthor’ like that’s supposed to explain everything,” Kara snapped. The anger that flared within her gave her a rush of energy and she shot forward like a rocket, momentarily cutting through Alex’s response as the wind roared in her ears.

  
As soon as she saw L-CORP’s lettering on the side of its tall, glittering building, she began to slow. Her heart was racing, though whether it was because she’d just torpedoed her way across the sky or because she was about to go confront the only remaining Luthor about alien quarantines, Kara didn’t know.

  
“I trust her,” she told her sister as she floated closer to L-CORP. “Something else is going on. I can feel it.”

  
“Kara, your heart is in the right place,” said Alex, sounding less frustrated now and more gentle, “but you really need to consider the possibility that she could be behind this. There is so much history here. You can’t know what kind of environment she was raised in-- I mean, we can make a pretty good guess, but this is her family. You saw yourself how much it shook her when you talked to her about Lillian. I know you believe in her, but you’ve got to be prepared for the worst. She could be the next--”

  
“Lex Luthor?” Kara didn’t hide the challenge in her voice.

  
“--no, I was going to say Maxwell Lord. She’s intelligent, charismatic, wealthy, powerful, and I’m sure she’s well-meaning like you say. But she’s going about it completely wrong, and you and countless others are going to get hurt because of it,” Alex finished. “Please, just be careful, Kara. You know what happened between Superman and Lex, and they were good friends, too.”

  
Her fist tightened at her side. “I am careful, Alex,” she said, staring over at the window that was lined with lead, “but I’m going to take a page out of her book this time and take a risk. If I’m right, I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try. And if I’m wrong…” She didn’t want to think about that. “... _if_ I’m wrong, at least I gave everything I could to save her. What happened with my cousin and Lex isn’t some cautionary tale. This is about me and Lena Luthor, and I’ll be damned if I let her down just because _some_ people think she’s bad news.”

  
Alex was silent. Then, in a quiet, defeated voice, she said, “I might not trust her, but I trust you. Just let me know if you need back up. I’ll be here.”

  
“Thanks, Alex.” The line cut out, and Kara released a long, noisy exhale.

  
There was no way that Lena was going to let Supergirl in through the balcony. Kara wasn’t about to muscle her way through the door, either, as she suspected that would come across as aggressive and hostile. Definitely not the vibe she was going for if she wanted Lena to actually talk to her. Besides, the last thing the remaining Luthor needed was someone to think Supergirl was breaking into her office right after she'd pledged to round up the entire alien population of National City. 

  
But Kara Danvers wouldn’t cut it this time. It was time for Supergirl and Lena Luthor to talk.

 

 

A small crowd was formed outside of the lobby doors to L-CORP’s entrance. Shouts of various natures burst from different people, some of who carried large signs in bright, obnoxious colors. Kara couldn’t help but warm at the sight of “Aliens Are Friends, Not Foes!” bobbing above a young man’s head. She appreciated that the citizens of National City were pouring out support for the aliens amongst them. It reminded her of when they stood up for Supergirl against Livewire and the Silver Banshee, even after she’d rampaged from the effects of the red kryptonite. These were good people, and she loved them.

  
The rallying cries quickly turned to squeals of, “Supergirl!” as Kara slowly descended onto the outer steps of L-CORP. Several reporters were there as well, likely still banned from entering the building. They rushed her as soon as her boots made contact with the concrete.

  
“Supergirl! What are your thoughts on Lena Luthor’s supposed plan to segregate the aliens from the rest of National City?”  
“Do you plan to take action against the alien detection devices?”  
“Will you be excluded from the segregation or will National City lose its hero?”

  
Kara held up a hand as three or four different mics were thrust toward her face. “Lena Luthor is my friend,” she declared, letting her stare sweep from reporter to reporter. A few startled murmurs rippled through the crowd. “I’m going to talk to her about this, and we’re going to figure it out together.” She turned away from them and let her cape flutter in the gust of her stride as she entered the building, hoping that none of them saw past her faux bravado.

  
The front desk staff were astonished to see Supergirl march into the lobby. The guards stepped forward uncertainly, some reaching for their pagers and others inching their hands toward the weapon on their hips. Kara shot them a stern glance and their hands froze, though a few boldly returned the stare as she strode by. They all watched as she stopped in front of the elevator. The guard, Miles, stood there stiffly, his large arms crossed over his chest and his chin lifted high.

  
“Let me through,” Supergirl said simply, resisting the urge to fold her arms in a similar manner. She kept them at her sides, shoulders back. “Please.”

  
“Off limits to visitors,” he responded in a tight voice.

  
Her lips pursed. She really didn’t want to strong-arm her way through to Lena’s office. But if her previous encounter with Miles was any indication, she needed to be more forceful to get through. Her eyes did not stray from his as she said softly, “Move aside, Miles. I need to talk to her. I’m not asking.”

  
He looked faintly surprised at the mention of his name. Still, he remained where he was. Kara made a mental note to praise his dedication to Lena later, once this all blew over.  
Supergirl took a step forward. Miles tensed and shifted, but before he could even take up a proper stance, Kara flitted behind him with astonishing speed and placed a hand on his shoulder. He twitched at her touch, but she flexed her grip and he paused.

  
“You can come with me, if you are concerned,” she suggested, tapping the call button on the elevator behind her. “I’m not here to fight.”

  
Miles didn’t answer. He stared out at the other guards who watched as the elevator doors pulled open. When Supergirl moved backward into the car, Miles turned and entered in beside her. She nodded at him as the doors slid closed again, but he did not acknowledge her.

  
The rise to the twenty fifth floor was silent. Kara wasn’t sure what made him change his mind, though she suspected he was aware of just how underpowered he was against her. She didn’t like to think that she frightened him, and hoped instead that he took her words to heart and believed she was there to help, not harm. The stony, distrustful expression on his face wasn’t convincing, though.

  
The musical ding of the elevator made Kara’s heart jump. The doors opened, revealing Jess at her desk like usual.

  
“What part of no visitors--” Jess started, but as she looked up, the words strangled on her tongue and she inhaled them sharply.

  
Supergirl stepped onto floor twenty five. Just in front of Lena’s office door, the man from the restaurant stood in heavy silence. Chavez, if she remembered. He stared at her as she turned toward him, and she had the feeling that he would not be as easily swayed as Miles.

  
“Oh-- this-- this isn’t good,” Jess breathed, standing hastily from her chair. She looked between Kara and Chavez, panic in her eyes.

  
Kara met Chavez’s dark gaze evenly. He was like a stone sculpture, tense and unreadable. Then, like lightning, a gun was in his hand, the muzzle pointed directly at the forehead of Lena’s alarmed secretary. Jess squeaked.

  
“Leave,” he said to Supergirl. His voice was rough and unpleasant.

  
Kara really did not like him.

  
“Okay, okay,” she said quickly, baring her palms, though she stretched out a hand toward Jess as reassurance. “No need to be rash.”

  
He cocked the gun.

  
“ _Don’t_ -!” Kara blurred forward in front of Jess just as the gun fired off. She felt the bullet bounce harmlessly off the back of her head as she curled protectively toward Jess, who screamed.

  
Anger burned within her. As she whipped back around to face him, another bullet fired toward Miles instead. Kara’s breath caught in her throat at the sight, but Miles dodged around the corner as the bullet chipped off a piece of drywall.

  
“Leave them alone,” she snarled, and half a second later she was on Chavez, both of his wrists caught in her hands. He was stronger than he appeared-- which was saying something, considering he looked like his bones could have been made out of rebar-- but Supergirl twisted until the gun loosened in his grip. She yanked the firearm out of his hand and he grabbed for her neck. A loud _crack_ echoed through the room when she headbutted him in the face.

  
Chavez slumped to the floor, unconscious. Kara heaved her breath, and then looked down at the gun in her hand. Alex had taught her how to unload a gun several years ago, but she’d never imagined she would ever need the skill until now. She made quick work of it and crushed the bullets in her fist. The gun clattered to the ground, discarded.

  
“Are you both okay?” she asked, looking from Jess to Miles, who was peering around the corner. Jess stared at her, numb, and then slowly nodded. Miles gave her a thumbs up.

  
Kara stepped over Chavez and pushed open Lena’s office door.

  
The youngest Luthor was sitting on the couch, a drink in hand. Several papers with what appeared to be blueprints of some kind were strewn about the coffee table in front of her. She looked somewhat disheveled; her bun had come loose, with wisps of dark hair framing her face, and the collar of her blouse was rumpled. At the sight of Supergirl standing in the doorway above Chavez’s limp body, Lena froze.

  
Kara closed the door behind her, biting her lip. “You hired a mercenary to protect you?” she blurted as soon as the latch clicked.

  
Lena carefully placed her drink onto the table. It looked like scotch. “Obviously I needed some extra protection,” she answered coolly, regarding Kara with narrowed eyes that burned with cold ferocity.

  
“He almost killed Jess and Miles!” Kara exclaimed, aghast.

  
Lena’s gaze immediately snapped back over to the door. She sat up straighter, as if preparing to stand. “Are they alright?” she demanded, and the worry in her face was suddenly more forthcoming than any other emotion Kara had glimpsed lately. “I heard the gunshot, but I didn’t think--”

  
“No, you didn’t think,” Kara interrupted harshly, arms crossed. There was heat in her words, under her skin, in her stomach. It wasn’t anger-- not quite-- but it coiled through her just the same. It took more willpower than necessary to not tremble from the force of it. “They’re okay, but he’s dangerous, Lena. Why would you keep someone like that around? How could you trust _him_?”

  
Lena paused. A sneer curled at her mouth. “How could I trust him and not you, is that what you mean?” She stood. “It’s all the same, isn’t it? I’m a Luthor. That’s what we get.”

  
“You don’t deserve--”

  
“ _Do not stand there and preach to me about what I deserve!_ ” she snarled, and Kara took an instinctive step back at her explosive fury.

  
Kara’s throat was tight. “Lena--um, Ms. Luthor-- I’m not here to accuse you of anything. I’ve...obviously caused you some pain,” she said quietly, letting her gaze fall to the floor to avoid the heat behind Lena’s glare. It made Kara’s breath catch unevenly in her chest. She could feel a sting build in the corner of her eyes and blinked it rapidly away. When Lena did not say anything, she continued, “I was worried about you. I wanted to see you, to make sure you were okay. And after what happened this afternoon--”

  
“I thought that was it,” came Lena’s soft voice, though it was not any warmer than it had been a moment ago. She reached down to collect her drink from the table. “First, you come for my family. My mother is behind bars, thank you. I must be responsible for everything else tied to the Luthors. My turn, now.”

  
Kara’s eyes flickered back up to meet Lena’s, but she was turned away. “Don’t put words in my mouth,” she said, and the edge to her own voice surprised herself. Lena moved to look at her again. “I have never once doubted that you were good and made the right choices.”

  
Lena swirled her drink for a moment, and then stepped closer to Supergirl, eyes still narrowed. There was scotch on her breath, and though the ferocity she exuded was alarming, Kara couldn’t tell whether it was caused by the alcohol or just her distress in general. “What makes you so sure this time? You have video proof that I’m enacting an alien segregation. How good does that make me?”

  
“That depends,” Kara said, watching Lena closely, “Is that video proof of you enacting an alien segregation?”

  
Lena stared at her. A thick silence formed between them, and Kara had to resist the urge to reach out and comfort the turmoil behind the guarded green of Lena’s eyes. Finally, Lena broke away and took a sip of her drink. She moved a few steps from Supergirl and back toward her papers. “No,” she murmured, touching one of the blueprints on the table. “That wasn’t me.”

  
“I know,” Kara said.

  
Lena cast her an incredulous glance. The suspicion was hard to miss. “Forgive me if it seems hard to believe that Supergirl, of all people, would have faith in a Luthor,” she scoffed with a harsh, unpleasant laugh. “You don’t, though, if your visit is any indication. Your incessant spying. I thought you were different.”

  
Her fist clenched again. She was so stubborn! “Why are you being like this?” She hated the quaver in her voice. It wasn’t the confident, bold voice of Supergirl, but the mousy frustration of Kara Danvers. How did it even get to this point? Where had she gone so wrong that Lena had completely lost her faith in the superhero she’d been so eager to work alongside? Why was it that she was suddenly taking everything that Supergirl did in the completely wrong direction? There had to be something she was missing, something she might have overlooked...

  
Maybe it was in Kara’s desperate plea, but when Lena turned fully around to face her again, Kara noticed her expression had softened somewhat. Or maybe she just looked less angry; the fire in her eyes had dimmed into something considerably less alarming, but she did not appear any more welcoming to Kara than before.

  
A long, tired exhale drew past Lena’s lips. She reached a hand up to rub at her eyes and pinched her fingers at the bridge of her nose. The mask settled back into place, obscuring the turbulent emotion that had surfaced at Supergirl’s arrival. “I’m sorry I’m not the person you think I am,” she bit out. Kara could still see the tick in her jaw, though she sounded more exhausted than anything else. “Now, what is it that you’re really here for, Supergirl?”

  
“Why’s it so hard for you to believe that I’m here for you, as a friend?” Kara stepped forward, close to Lena, who straightened and tightened her grip on the nearly empty glass in her hand. Kara had never really noticed before, but Lena was a few inches shorter than her and suddenly with Supergirl so close she seemed almost...small. But her eyes were bright, her mouth hard, chin high. She reminded Kara of royalty.

  
“You’re a Super, and I’m a Luthor,” Lena responded tightly. “We can’t ever be friends.”

  
Kara almost stumbled back from the words. They were a blow to her stomach, like she’d been punched with a glove of kryptonite. That didn’t make _any_ damn sense coming from Lena, the woman who had been so  eager to work together only weeks prior. Kara’s breath caught in her throat. “What does that have to do with anything?” she demanded, “Why does being a Luthor or a Super mean we can’t be allies? Because our families are enemies? You and I are our own people! You’re Lena, and I’m-- I’m Supergirl, and we make our own decisions about our lives, not because our families told us to or want us to! Your mother may have stolen the Medusa virus and tried to wipe out innocent people, but my father created that virus-- did you know that? He made it all possible. My mother used me as bait to arrest my own aunt. Just because I wear this crest--” Kara placed a hand over the symbol on her chest and saw Lena’s eyes narrow on it, “--doesn’t mean I don’t know the pain of betrayal. Especially from family. But I’ll be damned if I let what they did define who I am or who I’m allowed to be friends with. Lex and Superman’s fight isn’t ours.” The words tumbled out of her quickly, and she had to catch her breath as the last of them left her mouth.

  
“You’re naive if you think it has nothing to do with us,” Lena said softly.

  
Kara shook her head. “That’s not what I said. It has everything to do with us. Our choices to move forward and beyond the ugliness and pain that our families have brought each other. But just because we are a part of it doesn’t mean we have to follow the same paths they did.”

  
Lena was very still. She struggled to keep the mask on-- Kara could see the flicker of anger, of sorrow, and even confusion flit through the dangerous calm that Lena tried to hide behind. Eventually, she let out a long exhale and raised the glass to her lips again to drain it completely. Her gaze averted to the window, and Kara had the sneaking feeling that Lena didn’t want to look at her. Like she couldn’t meet her eyes.

  
“Lena,” Kara pleaded softly. What else could she say to get Lena to believe her? To trust her again? It was bad enough that she was running into these roadblocks as Kara Danvers, but she couldn’t very well just expose herself now of all times and expect this rift between them to suddenly mend. Lena might have hated her completely if she did that. It was odd-- she felt completely powerless here, as Supergirl. Being bulletproof wasn’t so helpful when the holes in her heart weren’t physical.

  
Without thinking, Supergirl sank down onto her knees and sat back on the heels of her red boots. Her cape pooled on the carpet around her as she looked up at the remaining Luthor with determination set into her wide, blue eyes. Maybe she was trying too hard to be Supergirl-- maybe it was the Super that Lena pushed so much against. Maybe all she needed to do was channel a little more Kara Danvers in order to break through. With a deep breath, Kara told her, “I want to help. I want to keep you safe, just like I do the rest of this city. And frankly, I don’t give a damn _what_ your last name is. You are good, and kind, and I’m not about to let you take the fall for something you didn’t do. I promise.”

  
Lena stared down at her, startled. It took a moment, but she could see the submission draw forth a glimmer of quiet reassurance from the faintest crack in Lena’s facade. Kara willed, with all of her strength, for Lena to believe her. But as Lena parted her lip to respond, a sharp knock on the door made them both jump (Kara merely twitched; she’d heard the footsteps beyond the door) before it swung open and a wide-eyed Jess looked in.

  
“Ms. Luthor, the news!” Despite how panicked she had been with Chavez’s gun pointed at her head, Jess would have looked impressively composed had it not been for the horrified paleness of her expression.

  
Supergirl rose to her feet as Lena grabbed the remote off of her desk and switched on the large screens mounted on the opposite wall. Immediately, Lena’s face brightened on the screens, all coy smiles and sharp looks as she had been during the first broadcast.

  
Lena took in a harsh breath. Her fists curled at her sides.

  
“Good afternoon again, National City,” started TV-Lena. There was a smugness to her expression that Kara did not like. “I want to extend my sincerest gratitude to everyone’s cooperation. Thanks to our Mayor, I am pleased to announce the relocation of our city’s alien population, effective immediately. For your safety, full compliance is expected. Sanctuaries have been established in four separate groups, and transfer specialists will be assisting in the migration for alien individuals and families. I wish you the best of luck in your new circumstances, and again, appreciate your cooperation in making this as smooth of a transition as possible.”

  
“ _Supergirl!_ ” Her earpiece hissed with Winn’s voice, and immediately Kara slapped a hand over her ear, pressing a finger into the comm device. TV-Lena disappeared, but her voice continued to float through the room with evacuation instructions.

  
“Winn? What’s wrong?”

  
“ _Wrong?_ Are you watching the same-- nevermind! As soon as L-CORP’s newest broadcast started airing, CADMUS operatives started showing up _out of freakin’ no-where_ all around the city!”

  
“CADMUS?” Kara repeated sharply, and Lena’s attention whipped back to her. “Are you sure?”

  
“Well, I mean, they’re wearing different outfits, but who else could it be? Who else could amass an ARMY to herd all of the aliens into ‘sanctuaries’-- which by the way is a really gross way of saying ‘concentration camps’ without actually using those words-- in like, 3 hours? They’re scanning people with these devices and grabbing the ones who don’t pass the test and-- wait a second--” there was some commotion on the line, and then Winn made a noise of disbelief and continued, “--Oh, god, Supergirl, they’re breaking into homes!”

  
Kara growled and clenched a fist. “Get the DEO down there immediately, get the police involved-- hold them off as much as you can and I’ll be right there--”

  
“ _Supergirl,_ ” boomed J’onn’s voice, and Kara twitched. Winn was suddenly distant, arguing hotly with someone in the background. She met Lena’s gaze as J’onn’s voice echoed in her ear, “I want you out of this. Do not interfere. Stay away from those operatives.”

  
“But I can help--”

  
Alex cut in hastily, “They have kryptonite bullets, Supergirl. Hank was almost shot with one. If you try to resist, they’ll kill you. We will find another way. They’re all human, which means we have a fighting chance.”

  
“Stay low, Supergirl,” she heard J’onn say, “We will be in touch when we can be certain you aren’t at risk. If we lose you this early, there’s no saying what else will happen to the rest of us.” His voice cut through Kara deep; she could feel the boiling anger through her earpiece, and the shake in his voice was raw, filled a blistering pain that even she wasn’t familiar with. Kara clenched her fist. Bared her teeth. She couldn’t let him go through this again-- not a second time.

  
“And stay away from Lena Luthor. That’s an order.” The line cut, leaving Kara in silence.

  
She swore loudly in Kryptonian. Lena started as Supergirl reached for the lead-lined blinds and yanked them apart to stare out the window. From this high up, she could see dark-suited operatives marching through the streets. Some people fled, and some stayed rooted in place. Others were swarmed by agents and roughly herded in one direction or another. It was chaos, unleashed in the span of mere hours. How did she not see this coming?

  
Something thudded outside. The three of them turned toward the sound, and Kara could see through to the stairwell as several people in combat attire moved quickly up the stairs. They carried guns. Lena switched off the screens immediately.

  
“Jess, get inside, now,” Kara demanded, and the young woman hurried over Chavez’s limp body and into the office without having to be told twice. She stood close to Lena, who placed a reassuring hand on Jess’s arm. Miles was nowhere to be seen; Kara hoped he had moved back to his post downstairs, where he was less likely to get caught in whatever fight she was about to have with these newly clad CADMUS operatives.

  
Kara closed the door quickly and melted the handle down. She pressed her earpiece and hissed, “Alex, I’ve got Lena and her secretary with me. Those agents are surrounding her office. I don’t care what my orders are, I’m not leaving them behind.”

  
The comm crackled faintly. “I figured. Don’t fly out that window just yet. I’ve got eyes on snipers, and I have no doubt they’ve got special bullets just for you,” Alex answered. Not a second later, Kara heard her sister’s gun fire off, and Alex added, “Give me some time to take them out, then the skies are yours. Get somewhere secure as soon as you can.”

  
She turned to the other two in the office with her.

  
“This might get ugly,” she said, gazing at Lena. “Is there another exit beside the window?”

  
“What do they want?” Lena asked instead, returning the stare.

  
Kara paused a moment, glancing at the door. Out in the lobby, she could see the operatives stepping out onto the floor, sweeping the area with caution. “Me, most likely,” she said, “but that doesn’t mean you won’t be in danger.” Still, she felt a little crestfallen-- maybe she shouldn’t have locked them in here. If she just flew away and pretended she wasn’t hiding in Lena’s office, the operatives might leave Lena and Jess alone. They were human, after all. She could dodge a couple dozen snipers, right?

  
Her common sense told her otherwise.

  
The door handle rattled harshly behind her. Jess clamped a hand over her mouth, but Lena looked unfazed.

  
“Open up, Ms. Luthor,” someone commanded from the other side of the door.

  
Lena’s eyes didn’t leave Supergirl’s. Kara felt suspended in time again; would Lena, so vehemently opposed to Supergirl’s efforts, turn her over? The mere thought of it made Kara’s stomach hurt. No, she wouldn’t. Even if Lena was gazing at her with what Kara could only describe as a mix between frustration and hopelessness, Kara knew with every fiber of her being that Lena was not that kind of Luthor. She couldn’t be.

  
“Not likely,” Lena answered back, just as firm. Kara’s heart fluttered. “What business do you want with me?”

  
There was some motion. “To get you to safety, of course. Someone reported that the alien fugitive called Supergirl was up here with you.”

  
Kara made a face. Alien fugitive? How ridiculous.

  
“I’m not in need of any assistance, thank you. She’s not here.”

  
Something rustled. “Then why is there an unconscious man with a gun lying outside your office?”

  
Quietly, Kara gestured toward the window. Jess crept toward it while Lena remained still, warily watching the door. Kara stayed close and studied the agents through the wood as they moved closer. She saw them drag Chavez off to the side. In his stead, a few of the operatives placed a large, bulky piece of metal. A soft click of a switch made Kara’s gaze narrow, but then the faint whine of a charging electric pulse made her jerk backward.

  
“He got too handsy,” Lena drawled, sounding every bit of an annoyed business woman with plenty of better things to do. When she saw Supergirl recoil, Lena tensed and took a step toward the window, where Jess was slowly inching it open as to not alert the unwelcome visitors on the other side of the door.

  
Kara inhaled as deep and sharp as her lungs would allow. The hum of the device stayed in her ears as she heaved as much ice onto the door that she could possibly exhale in a single gust, but not a second later, the pitch of the whine rose to an excruciating level and cut off her breath with a strangled gasp of pain. She staggered to one knee just as the door beyond her wall of ice evaporated in a brilliant flash of light.

  
No explosion. No dust, no splintered pieces or smoking pile of ash. The door was simply gone.

  
A man in dark military fatigues smiled through the sheets of ice at Kara. “Well, now,” he said, lifting up his gun to look at her down the length of its barrel. “That was easy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, apparently I lied. THIS is the last time I update this quickly, haha.  
> If you're at all interested, the new song "Imperfection" by Evanescence is my new muse for SuperCorp, and specifically for this story.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if there are any tense confusions; I'm writing a different story in present tense, and I've caught myself multiple times switching between the two. 
> 
> Also, hope you like a bunch of craziness.

Kara didn’t know how much time passed. She’s pretty sure it was somewhere close to an eternity; she’s kneeling in front of the ice, the soldier watching her down his rifle, and somehow her body feels like it’s aged several decades in the span of a half second. It wasn’t like this was the first time she’d stared into the black hole of a barrel leveled with her forehead, but though she knew she was bulletproof-- she can’t see or feel the kryptonite, though she supposes that necessarily didn’t mean it wasn’t there-- there still came the thick breath to lodge in her throat that always accompanies the tiny voice in her head as it whispered,  _ what if? _

Alex’s warning still rang in her ears. Maybe that was why Supergirl felt the harrowing brush of finality, because it was entirely possible that in the very next second, a bullet of glowing green would come flying through the ice at her and snuff out the last daughter of Krypton without a second’s hesitation. It was a sombering reality. 

“Let them go,” she heard herself say, but she didn’t remember speaking or even opening her mouth. She’s on autopilot, staring at the barrel. Slowly her hands move upward in concession. “They’re human. I’ll go with you, just leave them alone.” 

The soldier tilted his head slightly, as if considering. There was vivid disappointment in his stare. The other men behind him, with their guns still aiming into the room from behind the ice, only glanced at each other. 

“Supergirl,” warned Lena, just steps behind her. When did she get that close?

The soldier tipped the end of his rifle toward Jess. Kara very slowly turned her head to glance at her from the corner of her eye; the young assistant was motionless, halfway through the sliding glass window with her hands firmly clamped on the frame. She stared wide-eyed at Supergirl in front of the armed men as if the very sight of it had knocked the wind out of her. 

“Get back inside,” he demanded, gesturing with his gun. Jess carefully extracted herself from the window and stepped deeper into the office, beyond Kara’s peripherals. She couldn’t see either woman behind her, but she could feel them, hear them, and out of nowhere Kara was suddenly taken by the consuming desire to rip into the men beyond her wall of ice like a bear defending her cubs.

Maybe it was not so sudden of a desire-- Kara vaguely remembered feeling that way anytime Lena was involved. 

The heartbeat in her chest was steady, patient, and completely unlike the erratic suspense that Kara was  _ supposed  _ to be feeling. Her mind was blank; it's a precious moment that only comes to her in the fleeting space between seconds. There were no thoughts to clutter her head with pause or self-doubt or indecisiveness. Kara liked to think these were the moments when Rao emerged from his long slumber deep within her bones and stretched out under her skin, flooding her in light and conviction and righteous fury until it radiated out from her like the sunshine that coated her veins. 

Kara knew, as the soldier began to hack down the ice with the stock of his rifle, that regardless if the bullets in his magazine were infused with Kryptonite, she was going to get both Lena and Jess out of this building and out of harm’s way. Her eyes followed every stroke of his gun. The ice was not very thick-- she didn’t have very long to form it, after all-- and it crumbled like snow in front of her. It only took a few more heartbeats before the sheets of frost collapsed completely. 

Barry Allen would have been impressed. Supergirl was a blur; one second, kneeling like a statue before the operatives with innocent, worried blue eyes. Then there was Rao, burning in her blood, and Supergirl suddenly rocketed upward, catching a muzzle of a gun in either hand from the two agents that flanked the first soldier. The metal of the barrels caved inward like tinfoil in her fists, and she threw them back with such force that both operatives went sailing through the lobby still clutching their mangled guns. The soldier right in front of her only had enough time to register the blazing white-blue of Supergirl’s savage glare before she slammed her forehead into his, simultaneously wrenching his rifle out of his grip. Like Chavez, he tipped backward and slumped on the ground, eyes rolled back in his head. 

Kara stepped firmly onto his rifle until it snapped like dry wood under her boot. The vaporizing device just in front of the office threshold was warm, but no longer humming. Supergirl eyed it for a moment, noting the insignia engraved on the sleek silver of its right side before surveying the rest of the open room. Besides the two operatives she’d tossed across the lobby, there were three other men clad in dark fatigues still watching her. One of them leveled his gun at her, cocked and ready, before glancing back at someone behind Kara. 

“Ma’am?” he asked tentatively, and Kara could tell from the sound of his uncertain voice that he was young and likely wholly inexperienced for this combat. 

Kara felt Lena brush up against her side, just behind her elbow. She did not take her eyes off the three men in front of her, but she reached out a hand to stop Lena from coming forward more in case they felt so inclined to switch targets. The familiar prickle of heat under her eyelids surged as her laser vision prepared to fire--

Lena cleared her throat. “Stand down,” she instructed, calm and collected. 

Kara blinked. The agents hesitated briefly, and then slowly their guns lowered toward the floor. The two men she’d thrown pushed themselves off the floor and examined their rifles. One of them tossed his rifle to the side; it was useless with the barrel gnarled and warped from Supergirl’s crushing grip. The last agent muttered, “what a bitch” under his breath, but kept the weapon in his hands. 

“With all due respect, ma’am, this is--” one of them began, narrowing his eyes at Kara.

“I know who she is,” Lena cut in. “ _ What _ she is.”

A peculiar chill settled in Kara’s chest at the sound of those words. She tried not to let them echo in her head as Lena stepped around Supergirl’s protective figure, careful not to touch Kara’s outstretched hand. Tried not to let her heartbeat trip over itself with its newfound awareness of how close Lena was and how obviously she was avoiding contact. 

Kara failed, on both accounts. 

“I have an...understanding with Supergirl,” the youngest Luthor continued casually. She glanced down at the device that had annihilated her office door into complete nothingness, a brief purse of her mouth the only indication that she recognized what it was for. Then she turned half a step to regard Kara, sweeping her from head to toe with a look of mild disinterest. Kara might have bristled at the look had Lena not glanced back up to hold Kara’s gaze for a beat longer than necessary. “None of us want casualities. That’s not the point. If we work together, this project will succeed beautifully. If  _ this  _ keeps happening--” Lena waved slightly at the unconscious soldier at Kara’s feet, “--then all of our efforts will have been for nothing. Supergirl has graciously agreed to lead the alien migration to prevent retaliation. I certainly don’t want this to result in a riot, and I doubt Supergirl or her cousin do, either.”

Kara stared at Lena. A long, tense stare that Kara kept until Lena lifted an expectant eyebrow at her. Lena was unreadable, just as she ever was, yet somehow Kara suddenly understood. With a slight cough, Supergirl recovered herself and said, flustered, “Right. Yes, the uh, understanding. No casualties. I, um, will be supervising the migration.” She looked down at the man out cold by her boots. Should she pick him up and carry him downstairs like their little showdown was no big deal? That seemed like a bad idea. She really was gods-awful at pretense. 

“What about the one in the room?” The young agent looked to Jess, who was still standing silently where Lena had left her. “Has she been authenticated?” 

_ ‘Authenticated.’ _ Now there was a term that made Kara’s lip twitch. 

Lena didn’t miss a beat. “She’s my assistant,” she said, eyebrow arched. Her gaze drilled into him as if what he’d suggested was absolute nonsense. “If you are questioning whether I take my security seriously, you can say so in as many words.” 

He didn’t quite flinch, but Kara could see the grimace in his eyes as he answered, “Not my intention, Director. But it is still protocol, like you wanted.”

Lena waved a hand. “Understood. Jess?”

Her assistant moved forward in short, robotic movements. When the soldier presented her with a handheld gadget that Kara recognized as the device from the first TV-Lena broadcast, Jess placed a faintly trembling finger on its proffered surface. Kara still couldn’t place why it looked different-- though maybe it was lack of remembering what the first one looked like, since she’d really only seen that one once before frying its insides when Lena wasn’t looking. Either way, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as the light under Jess’s thumb throbbed a soft, contemplative gold. 

A soft chime of approval and the flicker of green light allowed Kara to release the breath she held. She wasn’t really sure what she was expecting; she’d never known Jess to be anything other than human, though in hindsight, Kara should have known better to assume. Perhaps it was only the sinister nature of Jess’s “authentication” that put her on edge. 

Jess looked relieved, too. She snatched her hand back from the device and shot the soldiers a nasty glare before returning to her post behind Supergirl. 

“There. Authenticated before your very eyes,” Lena said, folding her arms. 

“Supergirl, too,” another agent said, nodding his head at Kara.

Kara scoffed. “You’re kidding,” she said, and when it became apparent that they were, in fact, not kidding, she added, “Seriously? Does anyone in this room  _ doubt  _ that I’m not human?” 

“Consider it a control test,” was her rough answer. 

Kara rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger down on the pad. It was warm, and she found herself a little amused at how undisturbed she felt with its probing vibration. The first time she’d laid a finger on this gadget, she’d worried herself into clammy anxiety that didn’t settle itself until she was back at CatCo. Now, when the yellow light flashed red and beeped in alarm, Kara felt a scornful smile grace her expression instead. “How surprising,” she remarked. It took all of her self restraint not to crumple the device into scrap metal right then. 

Again, Kara saw disappointment filter through the men standing around the lobby. It flushed her with annoyance; did they really hope to find something amiss? What were they going to do if Kara suddenly passed the test-- shoot her with a lead bullet and be done with it? What could they have possibly been disappointed about?!

“Well, as riveting as this is, I’m sure we all have more important things to be doing than standing around my office gawking at each other,” Lena said, sharp and bleeding with impatience as she returned a few steps closer to her office. She held a hand toward the stairwell. “Gentlemen?” 

The young soldier nodded briskly and turned to leave, but one of his seniors held up a gloved hand to keep him from proceeding further. The older agent was watching Lena carefully. “Of course, Director,” he said, in a smooth way that made Kara’s senses flare with suspicion, “I’m sure you and...Supergirl have plenty to discuss. We apologize for causing a commotion-- we were under the impression that you were in some kind of trouble.” He lowered his hand, took the detection device from the young soldier, and approached Lena at a slow, leisure pace. It did not escape Kara’s notice that he was one of the three who still possessed a fully functioning firearm.

Lena’s gaze narrowed. 

He cracked a small smile at her. “Just one more security measure, as you know.” 

“Well, at least I can be rest assured that you’re all sticklers for protocol,” Lena said, managing a small smile in return. She pressed her finger into the divot and waited. 

Nothing in this world would have prepared Kara for the lurch in her heartbeat to see Lena’s finger illuminate as red as Kara’s own just a minute before. The alarm  _ dinged  _ loud in her ears, almost deafening, as she stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the device. Lena’s stunned expression mimicked her own. 

The agent’s gun was swift. He held it to Lena’s forehead, his smile replaced with grim acceptance. “Sticklers for protocol, indeed,” he said,  _ tsking _ his tongue. “Tell me, Director, what was it you told us before the launch of the operation?”

Lena stared at him, unanswering. 

He hummed, thinking, “Meyer? Do you remember?” Kara twitched at the sight of his finger flexing over the trigger. Lena did nothing. 

“Never trust an alien,” another soldier said, grinning. 

“Never trust an alien,” he repeated to Lena, soft. His gaze switched to Kara. “Especially  _ this  _ alien.” 

What the hell was this guy’s problem? 

“Well I trust her plenty!” Jess hollered indignantly behind Supergirl, and without warning something sailed past Kara’s head from Lena’s office. It was a metal cannister, one that Kara briefly recognized as the tin that Lena typically kept important schematics in. The moment it fell to the ground, it burst with explosive, fiery force, knocking back a few of the agents. Kara smelled ammonia immediately and coughed as the smell of it choked her through the smoke. An alarm shrieked through the lobby, alternating with the various shouts and curses the agents spat as the lobby filled with haze and the biting odor of cleaning chemicals. 

The soldier in front of Lena ducked from the explosion. Kara lunged at him through the smoke; he saw her for a split moment, only managing to avoid the impact of her knuckles as he tripped backward over Chavez’s sprawled figure. She fell atop him, eyes blazing, barely feeling the gun in her hand as she twisted it in both hands until it vaguely resembled a twizzler in shape. He bucked against her, hopelessly attempting to throw her off, but Supergirl did not budge. She decked him hard in the jaw and he sputtered with pain before falling silent.

Kara did not waste her time with triumph; Rao shimmered within her as she darted off of him to the next soldier, swinging a fist into a perfect strike of his solar plexus. He doubled over and she cracked down on him with an elbow, sending him face first into the ground. The third agent was close by and she spun, knocking him down with a well-aimed heel to his chest. 

“--Unit, I need back-up, anyone--” Kara’s head whipped up, and she saw the young soldier coughing into his pager as he stumbled for the stairwell. “--girl and the imposter--top floor-- L-CORP--” 

Another agent blasted a spray of bullets at her, but each one ricocheted off her chest in a brilliant display of sparks and cacophonous noise. Kara bared her teeth at him. She was lucky-- and conversely, he very  _ unlucky _ \-- that the bullets contained no trace of Kryptonite. The vibrant glow of her heat vision edged at her sight, but then the agent jerked and spasmed before falling over the defeated body of his unconscious teammate. Lena stood behind him, one hand pressing a piece of cloth over her nose and mouth while the other still held up her taser. 

Kara looked around for the young soldier, but he’d disappeared down the stairs. What made her growl with frustration was the realization that in his place, two more teams were swarming up toward the twentieth floor instead; she spied them through the walls as they ascended, heavy weaponry in tow. 

She didn’t hesitate. The smoke swirled around her cape as Supergirl flew through it and into the office, where Jess was already hopping out onto the balcony and Lena was hastily gathering items into a briefcase like a laptop, her blueprints, a small black box with a keypad-- 

“We don’t have time for that!” Kara ordered, placing a firm hand on Lena’s arm. 

The youngest Luthor glared at her. “If I don’t take these with me, we’ll lose more time than we have to counteract those devices,” she shot back, and Kara only let go of her arm out of pure surprise. Then, before Kara could say anything more, Lena pointed over at the electric device still standing amongst the smoke and incapacitated men. “I need you to destroy that-- doesn’t matter how, just get rid of it. We can’t let them have something like that at their disposal.” 

Kara made a noise of frustration. Any minute, the next wave of soldiers would be bearing down on them, and Lena wanted her to smash some machine that CADMUS likely had the means to create more of? She opened her mouth to argue, but Lena whirled on her. 

“Please, Supergirl. I need your help.” 

Kara shut her mouth, turned, and grit her teeth as twin jets of laser fire streamed out from her eyes and cut through the metal like shears through paper. The device fell in two halves, both partially melted and completely unredeemable. 

The look of absolute gratitude that Lena gave her stole the air out of Kara’s lungs as she squeezed Supergirl’s forearm with a murmured, “Thank you.” 

The bang of the stairwell door announced the arrival of the newest agents. Supergirl snaked an arm around Lena’s middle, pressing the surprised woman close to her chest as Lena gripped tight to her shoulder with one arm and onto the handle of her briefcase with her remaining free hand. It was a slightly awkward position, but Kara had no choice. As she soared out the open window, she snagged Jess in a similar hold before launching herself from L-CORP’s top floor, doing her best to ignore the piercing screams of fright that rang in both of her ears. 

“Supergirl!” Kara had almost forgotten about Alex, but suddenly her sister was yelling over the comm piece in the same frantic voice that made Kara’s stomach drop with apprehension. Something whizzed dangerously close by Kara’s ear. 

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“Kar- Supergirl, be careful! Whoever this is, they’ve got a lot more firepower than we thought. You’re not safe in the air!” 

“I can’t just drop them, Alex!” 

“Supergirl--” 

A sharp, agonized cry ripped from Kara’s mouth. Something tore through her right calf, radiating blistering pain up her leg with such fury that the muscles in her back seized.They dropped sharply from the air several feet. Lena screamed something, and Jess clutched her tighter. Kara’s vision was white and spotted. 

“--Supergirl,  _ Supergirl! _ ” She couldn’t tell who was chanting it in her ear. Alex? Lena? 

Her arms ached. Her whole body ached. 

“--come on, keep going--” 

There was wind raking through her hair, her cape, over her face. Kara squinted through a blur of tears, trying to focus. Somehow they were still flying, and she was still holding both women in her arms. Her leg burned, seethed, one wave of pain crashing atop the other endlessly. 

Something struck her in the side like a bolt of lightning; she screamed again, grip loosening. She faltered in the air, dropping more. 

“--you can, come on, please--” 

It sounded like Lena. Kara strained, desperate to escape the acid eating through her veins and its deadly, pulsating green. She could feel the sunshine draining from her bones. The terrible pain that bubbled up through her was all-consuming and vengeful, and it was a damn miracle that she was still floating mid-air. Kara couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt pain this way before. In that moment, there was nothing worse she’d ever endured. 

Rao was like a flickering candlelight within her. Kara struggled-- to breathe, the stay aloft, to hold the two women that coiled their arms tightly around her neck. Another bullet clipped her chin. She felt it, but it didn’t send her over the edge-- maybe, she hoped, she’d hit the threshold of pain. Maybe that was it. Her consciousness wavered. 

“ _ Kara! _ ” 

No. She couldn’t stop. She couldn’t let this happen. Whatever was left of Rao, she would use it to get them to safety; Kara felt their fingers digging into her shoulders, her neck, felt the wild drum of their hearts pressed against her chest, the battery-acid taste of their fear on her tongue. The air was ice, lashing at her cheeks. She would not let this happen. 

The savage cry that dragged out of Kara echoed out into the fading daylight, among the thunder of guns and shattering bullets. Supergirl burst forward, narrowly avoiding the next streak of kryptonite that rained into the place she’d been hovering. A building loomed ahead of her, and somehow Kara swerved around its brick corner, though she was still losing altitude at an alarming rate. She panted from the effort, tried not to let the tattered edges of her consciousness dominate her vision. 

“ _ Kara _ .” 

Another building. She barely avoided it this time; her foot slammed into a window, breaking it into a thousand pieces. Jess squealed against Kara’s collarbone. Lena’s mouth was by Kara’s ear, murmuring something, but between the roar of the wind and the ringing in her head, Kara couldn’t make out the words. 

She couldn’t feel much of Rao now. Kara wheezed for air, hoping to respark him-- she needed his strength, his guidance, his endurance--

 

Supergirl crashed through a window on the tenth floor of an apartment complex, bearing the brunt of the impact as she landed on her backside, cradling the two women to her as the last of Rao’s light slipped away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The answer is no, I don't know what I'm doing.   
> (Or do I?)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. That season premier, though. I'm so gay for these two, you guys. *sobs*

 

She was in the Phantom Zone.

Pressure gripped Kara’s chest and ribs like a vice, and no matter how deep a breath she fought to take, it was never deep enough. The stars in front of her eyes kept spinning; were they the stars around Krypton? Earth? New stars yet uncharted? They never stayed still long enough for Kara to see them clearly. But there was no mistaking the yawning void stretched out before her, waiting for her to tip over the edge. Panic fluttered through her. It was the same sharp, unsettling jolt of fear that accompanied a chair tipped too far back or a narrow miss by a speeding car or an unsuspecting foot slipped off the curb-- except this was constant, unbreaking, electric fear that precariously suspended her between eternity and certain death.

Kara wondered if this was what was left of Krypton. If she was able to go back, would she find this same blank, unfeeling abyss? Kara had seen the explosion for herself as it flung her off course; there was no one left alive-- except for Mon-el-- that had witnessed its destruction. No one who could still feel the wrenching pain of its death like an iron spike driving into her heart. Since she’d grown older, that pain had faded until it remained somewhere in the background, not quite noticeable but still aching, and twisting whenever her thoughts trailed too close to her childhood. Becoming Supergirl had brought it back to the surface, but Kara was lucky-- she had a family, a tight circle of friends, and a home that could bear the weight of her grief when she couldn’t quite do it herself. What would happen, she wondered, if she found her way back to Rao, and saw the aftermath for herself? The nothingness? Could she survive that?

It occurred to Kara after a moment that she did not _have_ any distinct memories of the Phantom Zone. She tried to blink, to speak, and found herself paralyzed. The stars around her continued to swirl until she drew dizzy and nauseous from the motion.  They blended together, pulsing, growing brighter, but no matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut, the light grew stronger, blinding her---

 

“--lamps in short supply, I’m afraid.”

Kara blinked. The soft warble of a voice skimmed over her, somewhere far behind her-- or in front of her? She couldn’t tell-- and it sounded muddied, as if the words were filtered through gelatin. The light above her wavered slightly, and then she heard in another breathy, hushed voice,

“She’s awake.”

A pause. Then, even quieter, “She’s waking up now. How long?”

More silence followed, and it took Kara a long moment to be conscious enough to realize that she was listening to a phone call. Blinking more, Kara turned her head, and was able to make out the rough outline of a coffee table just within reach. Something cylindrical and translucent gleamed on the edge.

She didn’t know she was dying of thirst until she recognized the glass of water. Kara lifted a hand and startled at how sluggish she moved; her arm felt like it was encased with lead as she reached it toward the glass. Her vision blurred and swayed when she pulled herself upright; she closed her eyes momentarily, retracting her arm, willing herself to focus. Kara could feel the rough fabric of a corded pillow against her back and a glowing, gentle warmth over her chest and stomach. When she opened her eyes again and forced herself to concentrate, she realized that the warmth was radiating from a small silver lamp suspended above her with a bright, white light spilling over over her skin.

Her skin?

Kara blinked again, and laid her palms out over her bare stomach. She could feel the soft fabric of her sports bra constrict around her ribs, and was glad that the hem of her boy-cut underwear was still where it should be.

A shadow moved into her field of vision. Kara squinted, and slowly the shape of a woman’s face sharpened until Kara recognized the small, warm smile of Jess peering down at her.

“How are you feeling?” Jess asked, leaning over the back of the couch that Kara suddenly realized she was laying across. The sound of Jess’s voice still sounded distant and filtered, though like Kara’s vision, was gradually becoming more defined.

Kara gazed a moment at Jess, and then tilted her head to glance around the room. It was not a room that she was familiar with; it was small, box-like in shape with a television and entertainment center on the wall to her right and an open kitchen to the left. The walls were a dull cream and several picture frames hung from each surface. She couldn’t make out the faces of the people crowded in the photos, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t recognize any of them anyway.

Her tongue felt like it had been stuck to the roof of her mouth with extra strength adhesive. With visible difficulty, Kara opened her mouth-- why was her jaw sore?-- and rasped, “Thirsty.”

Jess came around the arm of the couch. “Yeah, I bet. You’ve been out for a while,” she said, pushing the glass into Kara’s hands.

Her fingers wrapped around the glass carefully, but she felt uncoordinated and sloppy; she couldn’t seem to find purchase on the glass and reflexively clutched to it harder. Nothing happened when her grip tightened, and she stared at her hands, confused. It took her a long moment, but then a new jolt of fear ran through her and she gasped without thinking, “My powers!”

“You need some rest,” came a new voice, suddenly much clearer than Jess’s had been. Kara instinctively sat up and turned, but the motion made her head swim and she fell back against the pillow, groaning.

A smooth hand slid up Kara’s forehead. “Agent Danvers said your powers will return in time,” the voice said. Kara blinked again, and realized Lena was beside her, looking down at her with an impassive, steady expression. It was Lena’s hand on her forehead like she was a child with a simple fever. She stared as Lena removed her hand to reach for a white med kit sitting on the coffee table that Kara’s hadn’t noticed before. “Until then, you need rest.”

Agent Danvers… Kara’s eyes widened a fraction. “Alex?”

Lena paused. “Yes, Alex. Apparently she has plenty of experience with Supergirl losing her powers.”

Right. Kara was Supergirl now-- she’d almost forgotten without the stitched navy of her suit to remind her. She sucked down several gulps of water, then asked, “Where are we?”

Jess and Lena shared a glance. When Lena turned to look into the medical kit, Kara became acutely aware of the open window on the opposite wall. Not just open-- the entire window was gone, only a few fragments of shattered glass still sticking to the edges of the window frame. Wind whistled faintly through the gap, sending a wave of goosebumps over Kara’s skin.

She remembered little of it. Flying. Bullets. Pain. Darkness.

Kara nursed the water some more. Lena and Jess had been in her arms, and now they were here, obviously intact and miraculously unhurt. She’d fulfilled her promise to herself, at least. Rao had spent the last of his light to make sure of it.

It was strange, though. Before, when Kara solar flared, she’d felt weak and, well, human. Ordinary. But as she lay there, shivering lightly in cold sweat, she began to wonder why this felt different. She knew her super strength was gone, yet every limb was heavy, achy, requiring more effort than necessary to move. Regular humans didn’t have to put _effort_ into lifting a hand. And they certainly didn’t have to struggle to focus on the face of the woman two feet away.

Lena placed something cold over Kara’s head. It was rough, like a washcloth. “I know it’s not much, but lucky for you, the people who lived here happened to have a bearded dragon that uses an ultraviolet light. Agent Danvers said you do best under sunlamps,” she said, tilting up Kara’s chin to dab wet gauze against her jaw. Kara winced at the sharp sting that followed. “It’s no sun or government issued UV-bed, but it’s better than nothing. Can’t exactly have you out on the balcony to sunbathe with a dozen drones hunting down the last alien in National City.”

Kara made a noise between surprise and horror. “Wait, _what_?”

Lena pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and exhaled. She turned and glanced at her assistant, who was watching patiently. “Jess, please go see if Agent Danvers has an update for us yet. Let her know Supergirl is fully conscious, and see if she has any ideas for pain management. I’m not sure what works with Kryptonian biology.” She turned back to Kara, who had more questions than she could possibly fit into one breath and instead stared wide-eyed until Lena sighed again. “We’re in an evacuated apartment building. You carried us half way across National City and fell through this window two nights ago. I’ve been in contact with Agent Danvers through your earpiece. According to her, you’re the last alien to be rounded up by the operatives that hijacked my building. Everyone else has been effectively quarantined.”

Kara seemed to find her voice. “Hold on-- _last_ alien? Two nights? What--”

Lena held up her hand slightly, and Kara fell quiet. “It’s a lot to take in,” she said gently. “Jess and I were fine after you crashed, just a little shaken up. But you remained unconscious for a long time, so I rigged your earpiece in order to prevent the drones from tracking the call signal. Agent Danvers assisted me in making sure you were stable from the gunshots.”

She faintly recalled a bullet tearing through her leg. Curious, Kara tried to lift her knee, but the combination of embarrassingly feeble strength and the hot, biting pain that raced up her calf and thigh made Kara squeak in discomfort as she dropped her leg back onto the couch. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked, gripping a fist to distract herself from the throb now winding its way through her muscle.

“The bullets were coated with some kind of synthetic liquid kryptonite,” Lena said, touching the skin around the wound on Kara’s leg gingerly to inspect the sutures Kara could glimpse threaded through flesh. She tried her best not to flinch. “It wasn’t very potent, but enough to penetrate and infect. I believe it’s supposed to act like a poison. From what I could figure, it’s not a lethal dose, but enough to keep you indisposed until your immune system or liver filters it out. We flushed out as much as we could while you were unconscious.”

“I feel terrible,” Kara groaned.

Lena smiled slightly. “Seems Supergirl is suffering her first flu.”

Jess must have peeked around the corner, because Lena glanced up as Kara heard from somewhere behind, “She says the hydrocodone should help for now. And more UV lamps.”

Lena dug around in the kit again. It took her a moment, but then she turned back toward Kara with a yellow pill bottle in hand and briefly read the prescription typed on the label before dumping a white, oblong tablet onto the coffee table. “You can have that as soon as you eat something,” Lena said. “It’ll help with pain, but it’s likely to make you vomit on an empty stomach. Jess? Did you find food in the other units?” Just the thought of it made Kara’s stomach want to curl in on itself.

“Yes. Most of it is microwavable TV-tray dinners or pasta,” Jess answered. “And Agent Danvers said she’ll need all of the calories she can manage, so I grabbed as many of the snack items as I could.”

Kara’s brow furrowed. “You raided people's’ homes?”

A pause. Quietly, Lena explained, “They’re not here anymore, Supergirl. This is a primarily alien residence building.”

“You’re taking their food.”

“We’re not doing it for fun. You need the sustenance. Once this gets sorted out, I promise to restock anything we’ve taken, and then some.”

Kara lifted a hand and rubbed at her eyes. “ _If_ this gets sorted out,” she muttered bitterly, mostly to herself. First Myriad, then Medusa-- now this? What did she even call this? Lowering her hand a fraction of an inch, Kara side-glanced Lena for a long, heavy moment. Somehow the Luthors were tied into this, so it had to be CADMUS, right? She frowned. But how did that explain the “imposter” Lena? Which one was the real one, anyway? She’d seen the detection device light up red in alarm, but she’d also seen Lena pass the test before the very first time Kara had ever laid eyes on the device. So did that mean--

“--Are you an alien?” Kara blurted.

There was a silence. After several moments, Jess snorted back a laugh.

The indifferent expression that Lena wore wavered slightly. Amusement upticked the corner of her mouth as she said, “Wouldn’t that be a twist?” Her eyes lit up. “I always knew there had to be a reason Mother never liked me all that much.” She stood from her seat on the edge of the table and moved out of Kara’s field of view for a moment. When Lena returned, she was holding a detection device in her hand. Kara stared at it, surprised-- it was the first one Lena had presented her with when the device hadn’t yet been made public. She could tell it was the same one from the slight warp on its side from when she’d channelled a good burst of heat vision into its inner core, and immediately Kara’s cheeks reddened. Uh oh.

Lena turned the gadget over in her hand before popping off the silver shell. Kara watched, feeling sick, as Lena manipulated the device open. “This is my original prototype,” she explained, “I was going to mass market it once it was complete, but….something happened and I changed my mind. I don’t know how this organization got a hold of my schematics for it, but somehow they’ve altered the code to reject my fingerprints.” Another small sheath of metal came loose, and they both looked down at the exposed circuitry inside.

The left side of the circuit board was melted. Kara saw the faint hitch of Lena’s eyebrows at the sight. After a brief silence, Lena said, “Well, there was a reason it was still a prototype. I guess it still needed some tweaking after all.” When she looked back over at Kara, there was no evidence that Lena had made any connection to Kara Danvers and the suspiciously damaged core. “I would hope that you’ve spent enough time around me to know that I am the real Lena Luthor, with or without some device,” she finished softly, and suddenly Kara recalled the fierce woman she’d confronted back at the office in L-CORP. How she hadn’t really known Lena right then, or why she was making the claims she did, but somehow Kara could feel in the depths of her soul that regardless, this was still the Lena Luthor she’d grown so fond of. An imposter couldn’t have faked the naked fury and struggle that Kara had witnessed that day. Why would an imposter be so thoroughly broken by Lena’s personal insecurities surrounding Supergirl and herself? Lena might have been a damn professional when it came to hiding her emotions from plain view, but Kara realized, quite abruptly, that she was the only one to know what it looked like when Lena’s mask cracked or chipped away. No imposter could imitate that.

It took Kara a second to respond; she’d been so engrossed in this revelation that she almost didn’t register the clearing of Lena’s throat.

“I believe you,” she answered, and she was glad to hear some of her signature Supergirl confidence strengthening the edge of her voice.

Lena gave her a wan smile. “I appreciate that, Supergirl,” she said, before moving away again. Kara didn’t miss the flash in her eyes, and this time she knew what it meant:

Lena still didn’t believe _her_.

Holding in a frustrated groan, Kara flopped back against her pillows.

\---

Microwaved frozen pizza and Velveeta shells-n’-cheese cups were the best thing to happen to Kara in the past week. Especially when she dumped the Velveeta _on_ the pizza.

Yum.

“You’re still not full?” Jess asked, sounding every bit as dumbfounded as she looked. She was watching Kara from an armchair opposite of the coffee table from where Supergirl scarfed down several bites in the span of as many seconds. 

Kara swallowed and flashed a grin at her. “Hey, I have a couple days to make up for,” she pointed out, shoving another piece into her face. The hydrocodone was doing wonders for her pain management, but also a few extra wonders to whittle down some of the Supergirl persona; she wasn't totally goofy, but it had definitely taken Jess a few minutes to adjust to Supergirl's more friendly nature. 

Jess shook her head. “Impressive.”

\---

 

In roughly three hours, they’d found two other UV lights from the remaining apartments in the building. Kara basked under them happily, though she did feel bad for the snakes and lizards that had to forgo the lamps in her place. (Jess had very sternly refused to let Kara sleep with the python curled up on her stomach, but only acquiesced to the bearded dragon when Kara put on her best Pouty-Puppy-Eyes she could manage. Lena didn’t appear disturbed about carrying the critters around while Supergirl slept, so she assumed Jess’s red-faced acceptance of their new scaley roommates was purely out of respect for Lena’s ability to handle reptiles _without_ squealing. Kara made sure to vow that Sir Pickles the Third would be kept safely away from Jess at all possible times, especially after he managed to scramble off of Kara’s stomach and _nyoom_ across the carpet. To be fair, she had no idea that bearded dragons were fast.)

When nightfall came, Lena moved around the apartment switching off all of the lights, including the UV lamps. “We can’t draw attention to ourselves. This is supposed to be an abandoned building,” was her explanation when Kara huffed. “Agent Danvers agrees with me.”

Speaking of Alex, Kara hadn’t felt any better about the situation once she’d managed to get hold of her ear piece. Or, what was left of it. It looked like a mangled, wirey mess after Lena had made her “tweaks.” Alex was vague and short with her, and while Kara knew the reason for it, she couldn’t help but feel frustrated every time Alex skidded around an answer or gave her a cryptic response instead of any answer at all. After ten minutes of probing, Kara had discovered even J’onn hadn’t been safe from the hunt. No one was.

Now, dowsed in darkness, it was all Kara could think about.

She stared up at the ceiling. The draft from the window was cold, but instead of making her shiver she welcomed the breeze; her fever had spiked again that afternoon, and only an ice bath had given her a little reprieve from it. Stretched out on the couch, still only wearing underwear and a sports bra, the night air kept her from feeling like her skin was going to boil off.

J’onn’s face was a vision in her mind. Though they both faced their own disasters, Kara knew that regardless of her kinship to him, she would never truly understand what catastrophic pain he wrestled with now. She couldn’t know; her planet died still loving her, and her loving it, despite the fact that she was being forcibly removed from her home and all those on it. The history of the Martians was not one she had ever experienced for herself, and she could not even begin to imagine what kind of rage and misery J’onn must be sustaining from reliving it again. Hot tears gathered in the corners of Kara’s eyes. A caged breath shook in her lungs, squeezed her until it came out ragged and choked.

“Supergirl?”

Lena’s voice startled Kara; without her powers, she hadn’t even noticed that Lena had drifted into the room to stand by the open window, gazing out at the city pensive and silent like some sort of watchful statue. Jess was retired to bed for the next few hours until it came time to switch with Lena as look out, but Kara had assumed Lena would keep to herself in the other room, on her laptop or fiddling more with her prototype.

Kara sucked in a breath to steady herself. Blinked away her tears. “Sorry,” she said, wiping at her face, even though she doubted Lena could see much in the faint illumination of moon and citylight that found its way through the gaping hole. “Just...thinking.”

Lena had a drink of some sort in her hand. Kara wasn’t sure where she’d found alcohol, and after a moment decided it was likely just a soft drink or juice found in one of the several fridges they’d rifled through. She turned from her position at the window and stared through the darkness at Kara on the couch. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, crimped from the hair tie that kept it pulled back the past few days. She was wearing the white blouse again with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, the first few buttons still undone and the collar wrinkled. It was the most haggard Kara had ever seen her, and yet again, it was mystifying how effortlessly elegant she still appeared. “Care to share?” she probed, voice quiet, and more gentle than Kara had heard her since the entire debacle began.

Kara hesitated. It felt strange to unload her emotional baggage onto Lena after everything that’d transpired between them. Lena had made it clear she had some sort of issue with Supergirl that couldn’t be resolved just by girl-talk alone, no matter how often she tried to convince Lena that their friendship was worthwhile. Even without this strange tension revolving around Supergirl, it just didn't quite fit with the professional relationship they'd established beforehand. For Kara Danvers, there’d be no problem, but as far as anyone else was aware she was only Supergirl here. Yet, there Lena was: patient, listening, watching Kara like it was second nature to allow Supergirl to confide deep, soul-wrenching truths and heartbreak in her.

“You don’t have to,” she added after a long moment stretched between them, and Kara realized that Lena wasn’t just prompting out of respect.

“No-- no, thank you,” Kara said, sitting up. Her leg ached and throbbed, and she tried not to wince as she lowered her feet to the ground. She did hiss slightly from the sharp twist of pain in her side from the movement, though. “Sorry, I just...don’t really know what to say. So much has happened that I feel like most of it isn’t even real.”

Lena nodded, as if it made sense. Kara wasn’t sure it did. “Are you thinking about the other aliens?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Kara answered solemnly. She stared down at her hands, internally willing Rao to return to her so she could take off across the sky right then and rain down light and fury onto these strange, unknown enemies. Or CADMUS, whoever they were. “Ale-- uh, Agent Danvers told me that a good friend of ours was captured. He’s from a planet--” she fell quiet for a moment, considering, and then cleared her throat, “Actually, he’s from Mars. His people, the Green Martians, suffered a massive genocide from the White Martians a long time ago. His entire family... he was the only one to escape. The last Green Martian. And now-- now he’s been put in some ‘sanctuary’ by a bunch of anti-alien thugs under the guise of bettering both communities and I can’t be there for him, and I wasn’t even there when they took him, and--”

“You’re afraid it’s the same situation,” Lena murmured.

Kara wiped at her face again. She hadn’t realized how wet her cheeks were until she touched them. Embarrassed, she grabbed the nearby washcloth that she’d been keeping as a cold compress and rubbed her face with it. “Yeah,” she said, muffled through the towel.

Lena still stood by the window, holding her drink, but she shifted slightly toward Kara, as if unsure whether or not to come closer or give Supergirl the space. “I know this is partially my fault,” she started suddenly, holding up a hand when Kara attempted to protest, “and it is, because whoever this is, they’re masquerading with my name, my face, and my company to do it. It’s my responsibility, and I can’t escape that-- honestly, I should have expected it at some point, because it comes with the Luthor territory. I can’t deny that any more than you can deny your alien ancestry.” She swirled her drink, took a sip, and looked away from Kara to stare out at the city. The city was much quieter than Kara remembered, though whether it was from a lack of her audial sensitivity or the unnatural stillness that had befallen since the hostile alien segregation, she wasn’t sure. Maybe both. “I want you to know, Supergirl,” Lena continued, softer. Almost timid. “That I want to help. I want to find your friend, and the other aliens, and bring the people that did this to justice. I’m sorry this is happening.”

Kara nodded. The ‘I believe you’ jumped to her lips again, but she had a feeling that the repetitive nature of the phrase was getting worn out. Instead, Kara pushed herself up with help of the coffee table onto unsteady feet, and hobbled closer to the open window. She peered out toward National City and felt a stab of guilt and grief in her stomach at the sight of its empty, quiet streets.

“You don’t need to prove yourself to me,” Kara said, folding her arms over her bare abdomen. She watched a dark car inch around a street corner and wondered if the people inside were frightened citizens or operatives on the hunt for the elusive Supergirl. “But I do have a question.”

Lena didn’t move, but Kara could feel her eyes on the back of her head.

“How did you know those agents at your office would listen to you?”

“I didn’t,” Lena said automatically. When Kara glanced over, she shrugged. “One of them kept looking at me strangely, and I figured it was worth the shot. Guess I would have gotten away with it if I hadn’t been so eager to get rid of them.”

Kara smiled. In the faint light, it looked like Lena gave one in return. “You and risks,” she said, laughing slightly. “Do you ever play it safe?”

“Do you?” Lena countered.

“I’m an indestructible alien,” Kara said pointedly, and at that Lena reached over and flicked her in the arm. “Hey-- ow!”

The light laughter that fell between them warmed Kara through to her toes. She wished, suddenly, that they could stay like this for hours-- just them, relaxed and laughing together. It was rare to have a moment like this at all, especially as Supergirl. Especially _especially_ after the past week of rollercoaster emotions she’d shared with Lena. What she wouldn’t give to keep this for as long as she could was a very, very short list.

“You know, I have a question of my own,” Lena said, humming slightly as she watched the city.

“Trust me, you probably know more about all this than I do,” Kara commented, shaking her head. “And I don’t mean that in an incriminating way.”

Lena acknowledged her with a nod. “I’m wondering, besides the obvious “who the hell is doing all of this” is-- how did they happen to have a perfectly stable synthetic Kryptonite, and how did they happen to know the proper dosage for disabling your powers versus a lethal dose when dressing the bullets? Or was it in the concentration?”

Kara tilted her head. “Good question,” she agreed, frowning. “Have you asked Al-- Agent Danvers?”

“We spoke about it briefly when I was taking the bullet out of your side,” Lena answered, tapping her drink with a forefinger in absentminded thought, “But I don’t have the necessary tools to run diagnostics on it here, and there’s only so much she can determine over a call. If I could get the bullet to her somehow, she might be able to figure out how it was manufactured, and possibly by who.”

Kara chewed her lip. Then, carefully, she asked, “You don’t think it’s....CADMUS?”

“My mother?” Lena pursed her mouth into a thin line. “It’s possible, I suppose. Agent Danvers said she’s still in custody with no outside contact. But that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s not the mastermind behind it all and some lackey is carrying on in her stead.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

Lena side-glanced Kara for a moment. “Not for lack of believing she’s capable of it,” she said, somewhat dryly. “I know full well what my mother wants to do with the alien population, and this falls directly in line with whatever terrible schemes she’d come up with to get rid of them. I only wish I’d seen it sooner.”

Tension returned in the silence that followed, though it didn’t feel as thick or angry as it had back in Lena’s office. Or when Supergirl had first told her about Lillian Luthor. There was defeat in it this time, though Kara still wasn’t certain how much of it she still blamed on Supergirl.

“I’m sorry,” Kara said quietly.

The ice clinked faintly in the glass as Lena took another sip. “Don’t be. I should have believed you.”

Kara rubbed at her arm and shivered lightly. The cold was beginning to penetrate deep through her muscles, and she hoped that meant her fever was breaking. “So, if not CADMUS...” she began slowly, turning over all of the other potential suspects in her mind. There weren’t many.

“Did you see the symbol on the laser transmitter?”

Kara blinked. “The what now?”

“The laser transmitter,” Lena repeated, tilting her head. “The device that teleported my office door away to who knows where.”

“Oh. Is that what happened to your door?” Kara had assumed it was some kind of alien tech that could incinerate objects with no visible trace. A teleporter made more sense, now that she thought about it. “I didn’t get a great look, but from what I remember it was an ‘L’. I figured that was supposed to disguise it as L-Corp technology.”

“That’s what I figured, too.” Lena was frowning, deep in thought. “It could still be CADMUS, only they’re operating with an old Luthor Corp insignia instead. Which would make sense, as I doubt my mother wants to be affiliated with L-Corp’s progressive politics. And I do happen to know the design for such technology existed in Lex’s old archives.”

Kara turned fully to face her now. “And Lillian did have access to my blood, so theoretically--”

“--she could synthesize a Kryptonite tailored directly to your body’s sensitivities,” Lena finished quickly.

“That makes sense. A lot of sense.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Kara could see Lena’s excitement visibly deflate as she muttered, “Too much sense.” She downed the rest of her drink smoothly, and Kara suspected that somehow Lena _had_ managed to find alcohol after all.

In front of them, the wind whistled across the open gap, and Kara stumbled a step backward as it sent a ripple of shivers through her. Having a sickly human body seriously sucked. How any of them managed to get through a day like this was beyond her.

“You should get back to bed,” Lena said, moving back from the window. Before Kara could react, Lena’s palm was on her forehead again, and it occurred to her that there was a thermometer in the medical kit sitting on the coffee table. A perfectly working thermometer that Jess had stuck in her mouth just a couple hours ago. But Lena didn’t appear to care, because she then touched Kara’s cheeks with the back of her hand, kind and careful in a way that Kara was not expecting.

Kara stared, taken aback by the deep, tender concern in her eyes.

“You’re still warm,” Lena said softly. Kara wouldn’t tell if the warmth in her cheeks was from her fever or the sudden heat that rose spread across her chest and up her neck. Lena took a step toward the couch, beckoning her with a tilt of her head. “Get some rest. We can talk more in the morning.”

“Lena,” Kara started, unsure, following after her. The prospect of their conversation ending felt like lead dropping through her stomach. “Wait-- I-- um, thank you. I know I’m probably one of the last people you’d want to get stranded with, but I just… I really appreciate everything you’re doing. I’m glad that we’re still working together.” She steadied herself on the table when her knee threatened to give out from under her. “I hope that, that someday, you’ll reconsider being my friend.”

Lena blinked, and Kara wasn’t sure if the shine in her eyes was just from the light or if she was blinking back tears. “Supergirl,” she said, low and sad in a way that made Kara’s throat tighten. She saw Lena’s chin wobble, and somehow she was standing closer to Lena, occupying a space she’d only ever shared moments in as Kara Danvers. Lena closed her eyes, and exhaled. “I shouldn’t have-- I shouldn’t have said those things. I was out of line.” Her eyes opened again, searching Kara. “I hope you can forgive me.”

It was killing Kara that she couldn’t just reach out and fold Lena in a tight embrace. She would have given anything to be Kara Danvers right then and not Supergirl. Instead, she settled with a bright, sunny smile, and sagged down onto her couch, clenching her jaw when her wounds flared unhappily. “Forgiven. And thank you, for giving me another chance.”

Lena gave a quiet, short laugh. The morose glimmer still remained, but Kara was pleased to see a smile cross through it, however momentary it was. “Oh please,” she said, lingering at the back of the couch, looking down at Supergirl laid over the pillows. “Thank you for your infallible belief in me. You’ve given me so many second chances it’s become a misnomer.”

Kara rolled her eyes. “You deserve every last one them. You are good, Lena Luthor. One of these days, I’ll make you believe me.”

“Is that a threat?”

Kara barked a laugh. “More like a promise,” she said, grinning.

Lena smiled. A real, genuine, Lena Luthor smile. Even after she’d said goodnight and retired to the bedroom to switch with Jess, it was with that smile and those stunning green eyes in her mind that Kara drifted back off soundly asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was late. But hey, look! Plot things!  
> Also I probably didn't mention, but this is my first time writing a slow burn... so, uh, bear with me. I'll figure it out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops, sorry for the super late update. I think maybe I overestimated my ability to do a chapter per week lol.  
> also, will I put Kara back into some clothes? who knows.

Kara continued to dream about J’onn. M’gann. Mon-el. Occasionally Kal-el. The aliens that frequented the bar and sometimes those that she’d fought against as Supergirl, too.

All of them, huddled together, somehow helpless. She didn’t see much of the masked people around them or the strange place they were caught in, but their faces flashed endlessly in front of her eyes, burning like a scar in her vision. Even when Kara broke free of her sleep with ragged gasps, the faces of her friends and family were carved into the darkness of the unknown alien’s residence she was becoming increasingly familiar with. The first few times, Jess and Lena came to check on her, but after the fourth or fifth--maybe more, Kara wasn’t keeping track--they left her alone. Which was for the best, because Kara didn’t really have the words to confide in two humans what it felt like to be the last alien hostage in the city she’d pledged her life to protect.

As Kara lay awake for the fourth night in a row, she reminded herself that she wasn’t a hostage. She was a patient, slowly but surely healing from this strange, new sickness brought on by an unknown technology. As soon as Supergirl was recovered, Kara was going to bring the sky crashing down on whoever dared to fill her veins with disease and nightmares.

Moving was getting easier with each passing day. She could sit up without making much noise now, though standing up still proved difficult. Sitting on the edge of the couch, Kara waited until the easy, rhythmic rise and fall of Jess’s chest settled again. A faint bar of yellow-orange light slanted across Jess’s young face and the long, dark hair spread down her shoulders. Even without the light, Kara could see her perfectly well. Her senses were returning to normal, though slower than her ability to walk around unhindered by the wounds in her calf and ribs.  She could hear Jess’s heartbeat, faint, but steady. Lena was still too far away for Kara to pick up on yet, but she assumed from the darkness of the hall and the lack of footsteps that Lena, too, was wrapped up in her own dreamscape.

Kara hoped it was more pleasant than hers.

The couch cushions groaned softly under Kara’s weight as she shifted onto her feet, careful to let the sound of her motion blend into the quiet hum of the outside city as it came unfiltered through the gaping window. Jess didn’t stir as Kara rose, nor when she slipped, slightly heavy-footed, away into the kitchen.

Lena had worked more on the earpiece so it resembled a phone (thanks to the pieces she “borrowed” from an actual phone already in the apartment). Kara picked it up from the table and stared down at the keys. Well, key. There was a single button that allowed the communication channel to open when pressed, and cut it when released. Her thumb hovered over it a moment, and then, spooked slightly by the sound of Jess turning over in the armchair, Kara inched out of the kitchen, down the entry, and through the front door without so much as a creak in the floor.

An impressive feat for someone who kept her jaw clenched shut and trembled from the effort to keep herself from huffing about the flares of pain up her leg and side.

Kara stepped a few more feet down the hall. Once satisfied with her distance, she leaned against the wall and pressed the single key. Soft static answered her. A long moment followed, and Kara waited, eyes closed as she listened to the probing, empty sound of the unattended comm line. It was too much of a risk to let it reach just anyone, so the line was available only on one frequency that the Director’s device could tune to. She was only supposed to use it during the predetermined times, or under emergency, but...

“Kara?”

She opened her eyes, partially surprised.

“Hey, Alex,” she said, smiling at the sleepy slur to her sister’s voice. “Sorry to wake you.”

“No you’re not,” Alex muttered, more awake.

Kara laughed under her breath. “No, I’m not.”

“Something wrong? Are you alone?” Alex’s voice was suddenly sharper, radiating concern. Kara almost didn’t realize that her sister had called her by name until she thought of Jess and Lena, still asleep in the apartment two doors down.  

“It’s fine, I’m alone,” she said, quiet, watching the door, even though she knew at her distance and volume, neither woman would have been able to hear them through the wood.

Alex was silent for a moment. “How are you feeling?”

Kara knew the question was for her physical well-being, considering she’d somehow survived two Kryptonite-coated bullets and had suffered the equivalent of a viral infection as a result. Still, those words clenched in her chest, and Kara tried to swallow back the tightness in her throat before answering.

“Better,” she said, tilting back her head to stare up at the hallway ceiling. She examined the spiderwebs that laced the crown moulding and wished she was on the roof studying the stars instead. “Fever’s low now. And I can move more. Enough that I managed to give my keepers the slip.”

“Wow. You can’t even do that _with_ your powers, clutz.”

Kara smiled again. But it was short lived as silence fell over the line again, and she found herself fighting down the fear that plagued her dreams for the past week. It reared up within her like a beast, clawing up through her chest and throat with a ferocity so sudden it made her knees shake.

“Alex,” Kara said, unable to keep it from her voice this time. “I don’t-- I can’t..”

“Hey,” Alex whispered, softly, and Kara fell apart.

“ _It’s--not--fair_ ,” she bit out, snarling, angry, desperate, shaking with fury and sobs. Bitter rage burned in her chest. Her fingers dug through her hair, nails into her scalp. Hot tears leaked freely over her face. “They’re all-- I’m here, _useless_ , and who knows where they are or what’s going on. They’re hurting, Alex, and I can’t do _shit_ about it!”

“Kara,” Alex tried, but Kara kept going.

“--They could be dead, Alex. Dead. Gone. We don’t have any answers, and I’m sitting here being tended to like a child because I can’t do anything but lay around and wait. What if it’s all too late? What if this was the entire point of those bullets-- keep me out of the picture to wipe out the other aliens and then leave me by myself? I can’t survive that again, Alex. I _can’t._ ”

“Kara, listen to me,” her sister demanded, “This isn’t Krypton. You are not going to lose everyone again. I am right here with you, and so is Lena, and Jess, and Winn, James, Maggie-- all of us. We might not be aliens, but we are here, and we are family. And we don’t give up on each other, which means none of us will ever stop trying to help J’onn and Mon-El and the others. Whoever these fuckers are, they have _severely_ underestimated what it takes to be a Danvers. And a Zor-El. You are going to get better, and you are going to kick ass, and you w _ill not be alone_. Ever.”

She wished, with all of her heart, that Alex was there in front of her. Kara needed her sister more than anything in that moment, and the ache of Alex’s absence thrummed deep within her, like an integral part of herself had been ripped from her core and left behind a wide, empty chasm. She felt it as deep as the loss of her powers. Kara held herself, pressing the phone to her ear as hard as she could without it breaking in her hand.

Like she could read her mind, Alex murmured, “I wish I was there, Kara.”

Kara could only nod, not trusting herself to not break into another messy meltdown.

 

They stayed in silence together for several minutes. Even through the phone, Kara could still hear Alex’s slow, even breaths, and she pretended for a while that she could hear her sister’s heartbeat too; she’d know that sound anywhere, and the memory alone of it was so clear that Kara almost forgot she wasn’t actually listening to it. Many nights as a young, frightened Kryptonian surrounded by humans were spent listening to Alex’s heartbeat, learning its meter and drum until it became a constant for Kara’s nightly ritual. When remembering her father’s face wasn’t enough, or was too painful, to drown out the bizarre, new sounds of Earth, Alex’s heartbeat kept Kara tethered to the ground until she felt safe enough to drift back to sleep.

After a while, Kara cleared her throat and wiped her eyes. “Is-- is Maggie with you?” she asked softly, suddenly remembering that Alex rarely ever slept by herself any more.

There was a pause, then the soft rumpling of bedsheets and blankets, and then Kara heard in a warm, rich voice, “G’ morning, Little Danvers.”

Embarrassment ate through Kara’s grief until it colored her cheeks in the dark of the abandoned hall. “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry Maggie--”

Gentle laughter cut her off. “Don’t sweat it. Your sister barely sleeps as it is. Nothing I’m not used to,” Maggie said, and Kara could envision her soft smile, inviting and maybe even a little cheeky.

“Sorry you had to hear all that,” Kara said, glancing over at the door again. No movement, which was a good sign. Hopefully her outburst hadn’t been too loud.

Alex started speaking, but the sound of the phone jostling interrupted.

“I’m not as great at inspirational speeches as your sister, Kara,” Maggie said, close to the phone that made Kara think this conversation had become just between the two of them. “But I hope you’ll take it to heart when I say that you’re my hero. And not just for saving the city from the bad guys-- that’s _my_ job.” Kara smiled. Maggie paused a moment, thinking, then said in a quieter voice, “It’s because you inspire so much hope. And goodness in people. You...make people want to do better. You don’t just track down a criminal and toss them into lock up when they’re found guilty-- you take the time to talk with them, find a common ground, and ask them to be a better version of themselves. Even when they don’t deserve any of it. Cops don’t get to do that very much, but you do it every day. And that doesn’t stop when you take the cape off.”

The embarrassment stayed with Kara, though the mortification was mostly gone. She cleared her throat again, hoping the thickness to it would disappear. “You’re way better at the speeches than Alex,” Kara commented, grinning briefly when a petulant “Hey!” echoed from somewhere over Maggie’s shoulder.

“I’m not done,” Maggie said, and Kara could hear the smile in her voice. “As I was saying, you are more than your powers, Kara. And you don’t stop being a hero just because they’re temporarily out of service. You have an amazing team to help pick you up when you need it. You’ll never be alone.”

Kara leaned the back of her head against the wall, eyes closed, listening to the sounds around her. She wondered what Maggie’s heartbeat sounded like. “Thank you,” she said, quiet and heavy with a gratitude that couldn’t quite seem to fit right in those words.

“You’re welcome. Now, go get some sleep,” Maggie said gently. There was movement over the line again.

“Or try to, at least,” Alex chimed in, “before someone thinks you’ve sleptwalk out the window.”

“Has that happened before?” Kara heard Maggie ask, distant.

“Try, your kid sister slept _flew_ out the open window enough times that it had to be barred with iron so she wouldn’t go through the glass on accident,” was the answer.

The roar of laughter in response made Kara’s heart swell with affection for the two of them. Oh, how she missed her family. “Hey, uh, sorry for waking you up,” Kara said, once the laughter had subsided into chuckles. “And... thanks for talking to me. I know we aren’t supposed to with those operatives monitoring everything, but--”

“Kara, you’re more important to me than anything else. Especially those douchebags,” Alex interrupted, “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to talk. I know this isn’t easy.”

“It’s fine,” she lied, glancing at the door again. She really didn’t want to get off the phone, but she was already borrowing more time than she was allowed. Still, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye, since the next time she spoke with Alex they’d be back to the endless volley of obscure non-answers. Stalling, she added, “Has Kal found anything yet?”

“Not that he’s mentioned,” Alex said, sounding weary, like she didn’t want to answer. Kara heard her sigh, long and tired. “I still don’t understand how these sanctuaries have gone completely off grid. Winn can’t find any trace of large scale enclosures or buildings or gatherings of people. It’s like they...vanished.”

Part of her wished she hadn’t asked. Kara pinched her eyes shut, steeling herself against the acidic well of rage and despair that threatened to overtake her again. As much as she appreciated Kal’s help, he had his own city to protect-- what would happen if these CADMUS wanna-bes got a hold of Superman, too? Took him out with synthetic kryptonite? Would it affect him differently, if Lena was right and the kryptonite was calibrated with Kara’s biochemistry? She took a deep breath, and nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Well, keep looking. They have to be somewhere. Keep him safe.”

“Yeah, we will. And luckily this is only contained to National City,” Alex said, though the ‘for now’ echoed silently, uncomfortably, afterward. “This can’t go on for much longer before the federal government gets involved. I’ve contacted Lucy. They’re doing their best to help.”

Kara didn’t feel very enthused about that, and it was apparent in the monotonous way she replied, “ _If_ they get involved. These are aliens, remember. The amnesty act was barely accepted a short while ago. Not many humans want to sacrifice themselves for aliens.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” her sister said, soft. Maggie made a sound of agreement somewhere in the background.

There was another lapse in the conversation, and then Kara’s shoulders slumped. “I should go,” she said, suddenly more tired than she’d felt over the past few days. It slammed into her like a freight train. “Update me when you can, okay?”

Alex was quiet for a moment. Then, “Kara, I’m here if you need me. Whenever. I’ll get Winn to triple check the security of the line, and then if you need to just...talk, let me know, and we can do that. I don’t want you to feel alone.”

A smile surfaced over Kara, but it was pained. “I’m not alone,” she said, straightening up. “I’ve got Jess and Lena with me.”

“Well, if _Kara Danvers_ needs to talk, and not Supergirl, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Alex.”

Her sister murmured a gentle “I love you. Get some sleep” before disconnecting, and Kara stayed there for a long moment more, staring at the phone in her hand. It felt so strange, being so far from Alex and knowing they couldn’t see each other until Kara’s powers returned-- even then, maybe longer, depending on what happened with their mystery enemy. Kara was stuck in the dark, powerless, until they figured out _something_. Anything. This would be the first time Kara would have to tough out a new journey without her big sister there every step of the way. It was terrifying.

Kara mouthed a silent prayer to Rao, begging for his help.

 

The door unlatched quietly and swung inward without a creak, much to Kara’s relief. She stepped inside, biting the inside of her cheek when pain shot up her leg from the constant movement; she leaned against the wall and closed the door the rest of the way, hoping the soft pants of breath she gave didn’t wake--

“You’re awake,” Kara said suddenly, staring over at the figure in the hallway.

Lena emerged from the depth of shadow, highlighted only by the reflection of citylight behind her. Her arms were crossed, and for a moment Kara wondered if Lena was upset with her for leaving. But then the steady thrum of Lena’s heartbeat reached her ears, calm and unbothered.

“I am,” Lena whispered, and Kara realized Jess was still passed out in the armchair.

“Did I wake you?”

Lena followed Kara’s gaze toward the living room. Her assistant’s head was tilted back, mouth ajar in a less than flattering manner, and the soft, occasional snore that sounded from across the room was enough evidence that Kara’s exit had gone unnoticed.

“No, actually. It was my turn to take watch,” she said, turning back to Kara. “I figured you were in the hall when I noticed the comm was missing.”

Kara looked down at the phone in her hand. There wasn’t much explanation for it, but Lena didn’t appear to really need one. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

Lena unfolded her arms a bit, looking more relaxed. “Don’t apologize,” she said. “You’re not my prisoner, Supergirl. I’m not going to keep you somewhere against your will.”

Kara smiled at her, but it was strained from her mounting exhaustion. “I know. I’m just...restless.”

Lena nodded. “If you need more privacy than what you’re afforded here, I’m sure we can set up another apartment--”

Kara shook her head. “No, we should stay close. At least until we find out more about what’s going on. With me all…” she gestured briefly at herself, “like this, I can’t afford to lose either of you.”

“Well, I’m glad you feel you can depend on us,” Lena said quietly.

The swell of fatigue rose in Kara again and she swayed a little, her hand reaching out for purchase on the corner of the adjacent kitchen doorway. Lena moved forward hesitantly, but when Kara bowed her head, she felt Lena’s hands close over her shoulders to keep her upright. The warmth of Lena’s touch was enough to cut through the haze of dizzy sleepiness that was blackening the edges of Kara’s vision, and she sighed.

“You’re not sleeping,” Lena commented, and to Kara it sounded like a gentle reprimand.

“No,” Kara admitted, sullen, eyes drooping. Lena eased the phone out of her hand, tossed it onto the kitchen counter just through the doorway. “I can’t.”

“I don’t blame you,” Lena said. She pulled gently on Kara’s arm, beckoning her forward. Kara shuffled after her. “That couch is terrible.”

She didn’t have enough energy to smile. But when she realized Lena was leading her down the hallway to the door cracked open at the very end, she stumbled to a halt. Sudden images of laying down on a bed, Lena close beside her, jolted her awake. “Wait, are you sure--?”

“You need sleep,” she answered simply.

Kara didn’t have the strength to argue. Lena pushed the door the rest of the way open, and in the dim light of the single window-- a relatively small, single-pane window in the dead center of the far wall-- Kara saw what appeared to be a large nest strewn with blankets and pillows. It took up massive volume within the room, and left little floor space for anyone to walk around: just enough that the door could swing open without hindrance and allow someone to step inside. The nest itself looked to be made of some sort of fibrous, pulpy material, like paper mache. It formed up the sides of the walls, enclosing only slightly against the corners of the ceiling and around the window. When she moved forward to touch it, the material felt rough like sanded stone, but gave under firm pressure like dense, stiff foam. The thick duvet that filled the concave shape of the nest looked more inviting than an all-you-can-eat buffet after a Kryptonian fasting.

“As soon as this is over, I want to commision whoever made this bed,” Lena mused, touching the edge of the nest as Kara stared down at it.

She noticed Lena’s laptop sitting in the center. “Do _you_ sleep?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow as she turned around.

Lena smiled. “More than you do, apparently.”

Kara huffed, feigning offense, and then tilted her head as she regarded the nest. With her injuries, it wasn’t going to be easy to get into or out of. No wonder neither Jess nor Lena had wanted her to stay in here in the first place. Besides, if Lena’s laptop cord stretched over the nest to the opposite wall was any indication, there was only one outlet. No bueno for the multiple UV lights Kara needed during the day.

“Here,” Lena said, swinging a leg into the nest and climbing inside. The structure remained surprisingly stationary with Lena balancing precariously on the pillows. She held out a hand, holding the lip of the nest with her other.

Kara slipped her hand into Lena’s and held firm as she attempted to maneuver herself over the edge of the nest. It reached about three feet in height, from Kara’s guestimate, and if it wasn’t for the gunshot to her ribs-- Lena had told her the bullet had chipped part of the bone, and if Kara had been any closer to being human, she should have been bedridden for weeks-- it would have been easy to throw her leg over the side and plop herself down into the soup-bowl of feather-down bliss. Unfortunately, as soon as Kara lifted her knee higher than her hip, her body spasmed in pain and she crumpled against the nest, biting back a groan.

“This sucks,” Kara grunted, digging her nails into the strange material.

“Easy does it,” Lena said, holding tight to Kara. “Go slow.”

Kara’s nose crinkled. She hated slow. This world built her for speed and efficiency, not lethargic, snail-paced incompetence! Every moment it took her to steel herself against the next pulse of pain that radiated through her abdomen as she lifted herself into the nest, Kara cursed her human-esque body internally, promising that the minute her powers were back she would go for a very, _very_ fast flight. And maybe punch something _really hard._

As soon as her foot was inside, Kara twisted herself (clenching her teeth against the protest her muscles gave the entire time, of course) in the rest of the way. Lena attempted to guide her, one hand still on Kara’s arm and the other hovering by Kara’s other elbow. But when Kara lowered her other foot onto the blankets, the plush of it threw her off balance and her knee gave out from under her. She spun and toppled over with a startled yelp, yanking Lena down with her, hands clutching wildly at Lena’s blouse as they sank further into the bedding.

The first thing that Kara’s muddied mind could wrap around was Lena’s palms splayed over the taut muscle of her bare abdomen, one pressed over the fabric of Kara’s sports bra. Dark hair covered Kara’s face, and she was overwhelmed with the earthy shampoo that Lena must have used from their hosts-- like patchouli, almost, and maybe some pine or cinnamon. And with Kara’s nose practically pressed against Lena’s scalp, she could smell the faintest honeyed scent that followed Lena everywhere, regardless of what perfume or lotion she wore. Her breath caught unevenly in her throat, and Lena moved against her, leaning up from where she had been wrenched down onto Kara’s figure. She was warm and the touch of her sent a tingle racing through Kara’s stomach.

“Are you alright?” Lena asked, slightly breathless. She pushed lightly against Kara to right herself, and then as if realizing where her hands still lay, brought them quickly up and away from Kara’s skin, the flash of an apology crossing her face.

Kara was thankful for the darkness that obscured the flush of her skin from sight. She took a few deep breaths. Both the pain of the fall and the the fact that Lena Luthor had just been draped over her basically naked body made her lungs feel like the air was getting thinner. “Yeah I’m good,” Kara responded tightly, still sprawled into the blankets where Lena left her. After a moment she wiggled a little and said, “But I think I fell on your laptop.”

Lena blinked. The light from the window above them was slightly stronger than it had been in the hallway; the half moon hung low in the sky just outside, and in the soft illumination Kara realized that Lena’s sight was adjusted enough to see her in the dark. Lena stared down at her like she hadn’t heard a word Kara just said. Something fluttered in Kara’s chest, and she remained still, watching the way Lena’s eyes glazed over.

“Lena. Your laptop.”

She blinked again. Clearing her throat, Lena looked abruptly away. “Oh-- right. Here, I’ll just--” She reached for Kara, then stopped. Kara wiggled more until she was angled enough that Lena could fish out the edge of her computer from under Kara’s backside and pull it free from beneath the incapacitated superhero.

“I hope I didn’t break it,” Kara said, finally propping herself up on her elbows as much as she was able. As comfortable as lying in a sea of pillows and blankets was, it was increasingly difficult to move, which made her wounds that much more annoying to deal with. She gave up after a while and sagged into the duvet.

Lena made a dismissive noise. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve dropped equipment heavier than you on it before,” she commented as she unfolded the computer. The blue light of the screen flared across Lena’s face, soaking her in shifting violets and white as the screen changed. Kara studied Lena closely, but the glazed expression was gone-- vanished behind the glow of her laptop and a mask of steadfast nonchalance.

“Will this bother you?” Lena suddenly asked, glancing over at her.

“Bother me?” Kara echoed.

Lena tilted the laptop closed slightly to gaze at her. “The light. Will it keep you awake?”

“Oh. No, I’ll be fine. I fall asleep with all the lights on in my apartment sometimes,” Kara said, laughing softly at herself. “Or in front of the TV.”

Lena hummed, contemplative.

“What?” Kara asked, when she didn’t elaborate.

“It’s… strange, thinking about Supergirl with a normal, mundane human life,” Lena said, tapping a few keys. “An apartment, watching TV. Eating pizza. Tripping over blankets.”

Kara turned over and rested her head against her arm. She could feel her hair curtain over her neck and shoulder, thankfully clean from the shower she’d taken earlier that day. Lena watched her, steady, as if waiting for Kara to respond. Or maybe she wasn’t waiting for an answer-- the longer Kara remained quiet, the more the look in Lena’s eyes shifted into unfiltered wonder. Kara remembered seeing that look on her before: when she’d rescued Lena from the chopper, when Supergirl had agreed to attend the Gala...when Supergirl had saved her from being crushed under L-CORP’s concrete fountain piece. Kara wondered what Lena thought of her now, weak and incapable of climbing into a nest without falling over. Powerless and laying spread over a blanket in her underwear. What would Lena do if she discovered who Supergirl was now? Would it be easier, seeing her as close to human as Lena thought Kara Danvers was supposed to be?

She was suddenly grateful to be trapped here as Supergirl and not Kara Danvers. Despite lacking her powers, Kara was at ease-- she didn’t have to worry about keeping up appearances as the human reporter friend that Lena thought she had. Kara could be the alien Lena knew, even if it was by a different name. It felt odd to know she could be more of herself in that moment with Lena than she had been before. No glasses or disguises: she was an alien from Krypton who lost her entire planet and was possibly on the verge of losing another. Lena Luthor knew that without Supergirl having to explain it all. The pain Kara kept caged within her wasn’t something she shared lightly, but this way she didn’t have to go through it again if Lena ever did find out the truth. Maybe this was better for them both, making Supergirl more human than revealing Kara Danvers wasn’t.

“Do you have a normal, mundane human life?” Kara asked, keeping Lena’s gaze.

A small smile upturned at her mouth. “No, I suppose I don’t,” Lena said, looking back to her computer. Soft typing filled the air between them for a long moment.

As dead tired as Kara felt, the exhaustion that melted through her bones and pulled her deeper into the bedding wasn’t strong enough to drag consciousness down with her. Now that she was laying beside Lena, the both of them pulled close by some unspeakable tension, her thoughts could not settle. It felt like her body was trying to dissolve in on itself while her mind flipped back and forth, unable to stay still long enough to succumb to sleep. She tried to count her breaths and regulate the seconds between inhale, hold, exhale, hold-- but it wasn’t enough.

“Most people sleep with their eyes closed, you know.”

Kara blinked. She hadn’t realized she was staring off into the space behind Lena, and when she focused on her companion’s face, Lena was looking down at her with amusement softening the corners of her eyes.

“I told you, I can’t sleep,” Kara muttered. She brushed her hair off her face and turned over onto her back. Staring up at the ceiling, she wished falling asleep was as simple as Jess made it seem in the armchair.

“Have you tried actually shutting your eyes?”

Kara rolled them instead. “What, something you don’t want me to see?”

Something akin to a snort rose from Lena. “Oh, probably. But that’s beside the point.”

“Lena Luthor,” Kara admonished in exaggerated shock, dropping her voice low for dramatic effect. She sat up on her elbows again. “Are you keeping _secrets_ from me?”

After a short pause of consideration, Lena pushed her computer to the side, throwing a patch of white light across the side of their nest from the motion. “I’m an open book, Supergirl,” Lena said smoothly, smiling. Kara discovered she really, _really_ enjoyed the devilish glint that accompanied her smile. Lena spread out her hands in mock invitation.

“I didn’t take you for an open book kind of girl,” Kara said, lifting an eyebrow.

“I’m not, usually,” Lena agreed. She tilted her head. “But sharing close quarters with my own resident superhero-- well, I can’t really afford to be a shut-in, can I?”

Kara made a noise of exasperation. “What, is this a trust exercise?”

Lena laughed. An honest-to-Rao, unfiltered, pure laugh. It delighted Kara. “The alternative is to go to bed, like you were supposed to.”

“I’m _trying!”_

“You can always go back to the couch if I’m being too distracting.”

Kara threw her hands upwards. “I can’t win with you.”

“Of course not,” Lena said, grinning. “I’m a Luthor.”

Kara laughed.

 

What Lena had in mind wasn’t so much a trust exercise as it was the kind of ice-breaker games Kara was forced to play in every new class of high school. Two truths, one lie was the first they played, and from it Kara learned a few interesting tidbits about Lena that she wasn’t expecting.

“Wait, you set the school on _fire_?”

Lena hid her laugh behind her hand. “No, not the school. Just the science building,” she corrected, “and to be fair, it’s not like anyone told me that the non-dairy creamer was _that_ flammable.”

“You were in fourth grade!”

Lena gave a limp wave of her hand. “I know. How embarrassing.”

It was extremely difficult for Kara to keep her cool-- several times she had to remind herself she wasn’t talking to Lena as her good friend, but as Supergirl, the hero that Lena had been at odds with for weeks. Yet at times, when Lena tossed her head back to laugh or smiled at Kara unrestrained, she felt like the disparity between herself as Supergirl and herself as a Danvers was non-existent. She was both, one and the same, a friend and a superhero-- and not one or the other, like Lena had seemed to suggest before this all blew up in their faces.

“So let me get this straight: you burned off your eyebrows and eyelashes at eight years old and set the science building on fire because you wanted to know what happened when you stuck a bunsen burner under a cloud of powdered creamer?”

Lena shrugged. “It was likely going to happen at some point, and it wasn’t the last time. I had a huge fascination with pyrotechnics and combustion as a child.”  

“No wonder Jess is so good at making bombs,” Kara said, shaking her head. When Jess had explained to her that Lena was tutoring her in Chemistry for her night school and taught her how to make common household explosives, Kara had thought that was a bit strange. Now it made a little more sense.

“I never thought she’d actually use that information,” Lena said, smiling.

“I’m glad she did,” Kara remarked, thinking back to the bomb that had distracted the agents long enough for Supergirl to take control of the situation. All she remembered was the fear that Lena was going to be abducted or even killed for failing the detection test and the consuming anger that followed when she took the agents down.

Lena shifted a little in her seat. She was sitting cross-legged now, spine straight and somehow still appearing like a regal, commanding businesswoman in the sweatpants she’d commandeered from their hosts’ closet. “Alright, Supergirl,” she said. “Your turn.”

Kara stopped for a moment. She had to be careful about what she said. If she spilled a truth Lena already knew that belonged to Kara Danvers, she’d be screwed. She racked her brain for memories of Krypton, or anything that Lena wouldn’t know yet, and likely would never find out, about her secret life.

“When I first came to Earth, I used to sleep-fly out the window on a regular basis and once got stuck in a tree,” Kara said, sticking out a finger. “I can speak nine different languages, three of which belong to Earth.” Another finger.  “And I am older than my cousin.” Third finger.

Lena squinted at her thoughtfully. She tapped her lips with consideration, and after a long stretch of silence, ventured carefully, “You’re younger than Superman.”

Kara flashed her a grin. “Nope. I’m thirteen years older than him.”

“Thirteen _years_?”

It didn’t feel like it, and part of Kara wished to forget that fact all together. It really didn’t make a difference now, since half of that life was spent in stasis anyway. She exhaled softly as her mind calculated the years.

“Well, just about,” Kara said, “He was almost a year old and I was thirteen years old when Krypton died.” The last few words hung surprisingly heavy between them and weighed down on Kara’s chest. Lena said nothing, and Kara continued, “His pod made it to Earth before mine. Mine was...knocked off course, and I was trapped in the--the Phantom Zone for twenty four years.”

Lena remained quiet.

“It’s been eleven years since I arrived here as a teenager. It doesn’t surprise me that no one believes Kal is my baby cousin,” she finished, closing her eyes.

“Was the calendar system the same on Krypton?” Lena asked, her voice soft. Hesitant.

“It was very similar,” Kara answered, trying to remember the names of the different months of her home planet. The days, the weeks. The years. She opened her eyes and tried not to frown when she realized a few of the words didn’t quite sound right in her head. Muddied, like the memory had lost its sharpness over time.

“You’re forty-eight,” Lena said, dumbfounded.

Kara blinked. “Well, technically, I guess. I was born forty-eight Earth years ago, but I don’t know that I’d say I’m that...old.”

Lena looked pensive, her eyebrows pinched together as she stared at Kara. After another stretch of silence, she asked, “Wait, so which one was the lie?”

Kara dragged her fingers through her hair with a laugh. “You don’t seem terribly put off by the fact that I’m double your age,” she said, smiling. “It’s the languages. In total I know eight, and two of them are Earth languages.” She was quiet for a moment, then, “I’m not sure I’d call myself fluent in some of those, though. It’s been a long time since I spoke anything other than English or Spanish.”

“And here I thought I could best you at something,” Lena remarked, shaking her head. “Maybe I’m the one who can’t win.”

“Of course not,” Kara parroted immediately, grinning. “You’re a Luthor.”

Lena’s eyes widened, and for a hot second Kara was horrified that she’d said exactly the wrong thing-- but then Lena leaned back, barking out a laugh that Kara hadn’t heard before, and Kara relaxed with a delirious smile into the duvet. There seemed to be hope for a Luthor and a Super to be friends, after all.

They continued for another hour and a half before Kara’s consciousness began to slip. She was listening to Lena describe the time she’d accidentally programmed a robot to assault a fellow classmate instead of giving him flowers like she’d planned, and the fond, gentle way that Lena spoke was so pleasant to listen to that Kara’s eyes drifted shut before she could catch herself. The meter of Lena’s heartbeat was slow, constant, the lull of it easy for Kara to track until slumber swallowed her whole.

Kara slept deep and long this time. She didn’t wake when the ghosts of her friends appeared in her dreams, nor when Jess burst into the bedroom with a wild, “Lena! She’s--”, only to be cut off by Lena shaking her head and gesturing toward Supergirl curled up in the middle of the nest-bed. Jess left the two of them there, Lena typing quietly at her laptop and Supergirl so far gone into her dreams that even the sunlight through the window the next morning did not rouse her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I promise there will be some actual action next chapter.  
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been reading so far and leaving encouragements for me! I really appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read my writing. You're more than welcome to come say hi on my tumblr @contagiousiridescence.

By the time Supergirl finally stretched out her limbs like a cat unfurling itself from a nap, Lena had already left the room and closed the door-- something that took Kara a few minutes to process, given the sunbeam glowing over her backside was very persuasive in coaxing Kara back into a happy doze. But the lack of warmth on the sheets beside her caused Kara to lift her head and blink over at the otherwise empty room until it finally registered that she was alone.

There was only a small spike of fear at the thought. With a huff, she quashed back the feeling. She didn’t need to deal with that today. Her abandonment issues could wait until nightfall again, because Rao knew they would resurface as soon as it was time for bed. Wrinkling her nose, Kara yawned and rubbed at her eyes. It was nice to have actual sunlight against her skin, and she basked in it for a few moments more, humming lightly to herself at the warmth and ease in which she was steadily sinking back into the blankets.

Finally, Kara sighed and sat up. She reached one arm overhead, followed shortly by the other and arched her back, smiling with satisfaction at the crack of her joints and spine as the stiffness melted from her bones. She wiggled her toes as she stretched out each leg. Without warning, something popped against her skin, and Kara froze. Staring down at her bare calves, she realized the small pieces of broken black string that fell from her skin were the makeshift sutures Lena had used to close up the wound from the kryptonite bullet. The gash itself was seamed together in a jagged, puckered pink scar, and other than the small suture holes on either side of the scar, was more or less healed over. Kara touched it gingerly. It was sore, deep in the tissue but not unbearable like it had been for the first few days. A bruise-- that was the word for it. She’d almost forgotten what those were.

She flexed her toes a few more times to test her threshold of tolerance. To her delight, she could move easily; the usual stab of pain didn’t accompany her motion this time. When she pulled up her sports bra slightly to inspect her ribs, she was equally thrilled to see that those sutures had rubbed away sometime in the middle of the night, leaving a thumbprint-sized scar over the space between the bone. This one was more tender than her leg, but she’d barely noticed it when stretching her arms.

The door creaked open and Kara looked up. Jess peeked inside, likely still expecting to see Supergirl snoozing and not her sitting upright, haloed in sunlight and hair mussed from sleep, a grin of excitement brightening her face. She blinked at Kara, mildly startled.

“Well, good morning,” Jess said, shaking her head. “You know, if you ever get tired of the superhero shtick, you’d be an incredible underwear model.” She eased inside the room, carrying a cutting board with a steaming omelette on a plate. “Girls would kill to look like you.”

Kara’s face burned. “ _Wha--_ I just woke up!”

Jess chuckled and lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah, that’s my point. Have you seen yourself? I hear the Victoria’s Secret Angels have an opening.”

There weren’t any mirrors in this room, so Kara had not-- nor had she really made it a habit to admire her reflection in general. She threaded her fingers through her hair and laughed, “Oh please, I would never make it. I am so not model material.”

Jess set the tray inside the nest within Kara’s reach, and then leaned against the edge of the nest, grinning. “Come on, you’re a perfect fit. _Super_ model-- hello? An Angel that could actually fly? You’re stunning!” She gestured at Kara, who reddened further. “You’re like, a kickass goddess of steel.”

“I am not,” Kara said, exasperated. “What’s with all the flattery?”

“What, a girl can’t fawn over her superhero?” Jess asked innocently, batting her eyelashes in a way that made Kara relax-- she’d never really seen Jess joke around before, or at least not around Supergirl, but she could tell from the twinkle in Jess’s eyes that this was nothing more than a friendly tease. She hoped. Jess adjusted her seat on the nest and laughed, “Don’t worry Supergirl, I don’t have ulterior motives.” She tilted her head toward the rest of the apartment and relaxed slightly, the mischievous edge to her smile softening. “I just figured, we’ve lived together for what, five days now? Six? Might as well make some friends. I don’t really have anything else to do.”

“Is buttering up aliens your way of making friends?”

“It is now.”

She puffed a laugh. “You’re a lot more bold than I would have figured,” Kara said, smiling.

Jess shrugged. “Well, between making bombs and arranging schedules for business meetings, I am an actual person.”

Kara realized she really didn’t know that much about Jess at all, and the pang of guilt was evident on her face. Before Kara could apologize, Jess rolled her eyes and cut her off with a wave of her hand.

“Oh, relax. Eat your breakfast. Between you recovering and Lena scrambling to get us out of this mess, I _am_ good for one thing, and it’s making food out of all the random crap I can find. One of the many talents I learned in college.”

Kara took the plate from the cutting board and looked down at the omelette. Somehow Jess had found what appeared to be ham, spinach, and mushrooms-- where she’d found them, Kara had no idea. The smell of it made Kara’s stomach rumble loudly in acceptance of Jess’s offering. As she forked a piece of it to her mouth, Kara asked, “So you’re in night school, right? Do you have a degree already?”

“BA with a double major in English Literature and Political Science,” Jess answered, watching as Kara all but melted around the bite she took. A pleased smile curved at her mouth.

“Wow, really? That’s awesome,” Kara said, blinking. “How’d you-- I mean, why--”

“Why am I working for Lena Luthor?” Jess clarified, laughing.

Kara smiled, a little sheepish. “Yeah.”

Jess cast a glance toward the door. It was still open slightly, and if Kara listened hard enough, she could hear the faint, constant tap of Lena’s laptop keyboard. “I kind of...ended up there,” Jess started, pausing a moment to think. “At first, anyway. When I graduated, I didn’t really have any idea what I wanted to do. I just wanted to do something important, but I had no clue what that was. I was good at writing, so I thought I wanted to do journalism. Maybe be a reporter.”

Kara felt herself tense slightly; here she was, an assistant turned reporter, talking to someone who wanted to be a reporter and became an assistant. Not that Jess knew she was chatting to Kara Danvers, but still, she wondered what Jess thought of that.

Jess continued, “But I tried it, and I found I really didn’t like the job. Didn’t like the people and the articles I wrote. And I realized I really didn’t like putting myself out there in the world for everyone to see. My articles weren’t CatCo or Daily Planet worthy, but people saw them, and I got really self conscious.” She shrugged again. “I applied at L-Corp when it was still Luthor Corp, actually, and not to be an assistant. I was a desk clerk.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was godawful boring,” Jess said, laughing. “I just needed a job to keep me afloat for a while, so I could figure out what I really wanted to do. When Lena took over the company, a lot of people left-- including all of the personal assistants. I guess most of them were loyal to her brother.”

Kara couldn’t imagine that many people siding with Lex Luthor and his mother, but she supposed the rise of CADMUS and whatever they were dealing with now was enough to suggest otherwise.

Jess waved a hand as if to stave herself off of a tangent. “Anyway, I stayed. Lena must have appreciated that, because she offered me a raise if I became her personal assistant. I had no idea what I was doing, but I got the hang of it. And I guess I’m pretty good at it since I’m still around.” She flashed a grin at Kara. “It’s not just a job, though. She really is a great boss. She’s got a whole company to run, but she’s not the type to think of it as its own entity-- she remembers that real people made this company what it is. She appreciates everyone who works there, and it shows.”

Something warm spread through Kara’s core, like sunshine was flowing up through her veins.

Jess exhaled softly. “If I work there the rest of my life, I don’t think I’d mind at all,” she said, “though not for the lack of ambition. She does great things with her company, and I think being part of that is an achievement in and of itself. I feel like I do important work when I help her figure out how to keep L-Corp running, even if I am just a secretary.” There was a wistful note to her voice as she spoke, though it disappeared once Jess met her gaze again.

“She’s lucky to have you,” Kara said, smiling warmly. “And trust me, a good assistant is definitely a must-have for the kind of work Lena does.” She would know-- seeing Cat Grant breeze through so many assistants after Kara had left the job, even if Cat and Lena ran their respective companies very differently, Kara knew there was very little that could replace the right employee.

Jess raised an eyebrow. “Do you have an assistant, Supergirl?”

Kara tilted her head. “No, not an assistant.” A side-kick was kind of a fun idea, though. She thought about what Maggie said last night, and the corner of her mouth upturned slightly, soft and affectionate. “But I do have a team that helps me out. I didn’t become a hero overnight.”

“You kind of did,” Jess pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Okay, _technically_ , yes, overnight. But, I wouldn’t have made it very far without my friends there to support me. I can’t do _everything_.”

An incredulous look crossed Jess’s face and then disappeared when she shook her head. “You and Lena have more in common than I thought,” she commented. She rose from the nest and took the plate and cutting board from Kara. “Well, you probably need like, four more of those, so I’ll go whip up some more with what I have. How are you feeling today?”

Kara opened and closed her fist, happy to feel some of her strength returning. Not enough to be Super quite yet, but getting there. She directed Jess’s attention to the bullet wound on her leg. “It’s healing up well,” she said proudly. “I’m not a hundred percent yet, but I should be soon.”

Jess’s eyes bulged at the sight of her missing stitches. “Jesus, that was fast,” she said. Shrugging, she added, “Well, since those are closed up now, I guess you’re in the clear to take a bath. I know Agent Danvers had you restricted to quick showers and bandages.”

Kara couldn’t help but sigh happily at the thought. “Oh, Rao, yes. A bath sounds amazing.”

“Oh, uh, Lena mentioned that your home planet had a red sun,” Jess said, and the sudden shift in topic made Kara blink.

“Yeah?”

Jess gestured toward the hallway, where the entry door was. “The next door apartment has a nice bathtub, and the room it’s in has a red heat lamp. That’s kind of like a red sun, right?”

She opened her mouth, surprised, and then considered the question. Kara hadn’t been expecting that at all, and it took her a moment to formulate an answer. “Well, kind of,” she said, though she smiled from the warmth that Jess’s suggestion gave her, “Where I come from, the light was a lot...cooler than Earth’s sun. It wasn’t exactly red light. But if I had to compare it to anything…” She bit her lip for a moment, then explained, “Our skies were kind of like how a really deep sunset looks here, just all the time. That strong, orange-amber color. Or how the sky looks here at dusk when there’s a wildfire near by.”

“That sounds pretty,” Jess said, soft.

Kara nodded. “It was. And, ah, thank you--for the idea.”

Jess toed the door open and smiled at Kara over her shoulder. “Wasn’t really my idea, actually,” she said, huffing a laugh. “Lena mentioned it when she and I were scouting the first few days here. She said you might enjoy it.”

That warmth curled through Kara again, filling her whole.

 

The bath was everything Kara was hoping it’d be.

She filled the tub, which was exceptionally large for such a small apartment (she wondered, not for the first time, what kind of aliens lived in each individual place), with the hottest water she could stand. Alex used to have essential oils to add to bathwater, and Kara found herself missing them as the steam coated the walls and dampened her skin. Still, nothing beat the rush of hot, tingling pleasure as she lowered her naked figure into the water and slipped down until the surface rippled against her cheeks. Kara didn’t stop herself from groaning and sighing as she soaked, and it was probably for the best that she was in a different apartment entirely so the others didn’t hear her.

She kept the heat lamp on. Its red light was strong, and it was odd to sit in a bathroom illuminated by flushes of ruby instead of regular incandescent white light bulbs. It didn’t look anything like what she remembered of Krypton, but she still basked beneath it with her eyes closed and head tilted back against the rim of the tub. Kara could pretend, if only for a moment, that it really was Rao’s light sinking through her muscle and into the reservoirs of her marrow. She whispered prayers to him as she scrubbed at her skin with a cloth and a sweet, floral soap, and recited the lyrics to hymns that she’d nearly forgotten the notes of while she lathered the earthy shampoo against her scalp and into the ends of her hair.  Once she sank back into the water to rinse, the tunes of the hymns came flooding back and Kara found herself singing softly under the red light, her voice bouncing gently against the tile of the bathroom in soft, warbling echoes.

She would have stayed there for hours, had her stomach not betrayed her desire to daydream of Rao’s return.

When she finally emerged from the other apartment, dry and clothed in a pair of jogging shorts and a slim-fitting shirt that she’d looted from someone’s dresser, the smell of food hit her like a physical punch. Kara nearly skipped into the apartment she shared with the other women, and only skidded to a stop when Lena rounded the corner of the hallway suddenly, running directly into Kara.

“Oh--!” Her hands braced instinctively against Kara’s abdomen, which only saved Lena a fraction of a second before her face would have collided into Kara’s collarbone.

“Good morning,” Kara said, bright and surprisingly unfazed by Lena’s hands pressed firm against the hard muscle of her stomach. She wondered if Lena could feel the heat rising under her shirt from the contact.

Lena blinked up at her. “Good morning, Supergirl,” she answered evenly, withdrawing her hands. Kara could hear her heartbeat flutter rapidly despite her casual tone of voice.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you coming in. You’re a lot quieter without your limp.”

Kara touched Lena’s shoulder, light and reassuring. “No worries, I should have realized you were there. Just in a hurry to get more food,” she said, grinning when Jess peeked through the kitchen doorway.

“We’re out of eggs, but I figured you wouldn’t mind hashbrowns,” Jess announced, “I found like, three full bags of potatoes in one of the kitchens.”

“Sounds fine to me.”

Lena looked around Kara’s shoulder at Jess, an eyebrow arched. “Maybe you should have been my personal chef, not my personal assistant,” she said.

“And miss all the drama at the office? Not a chance.” Jess waved her spatula and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Kara smiled. For once since they were stranded here, she didn’t feel so glum and in despair; maybe it was the slow eke of her powers returning, or maybe the fact that she actually slept more than four hours at a time and got to take a bath, or maybe the smiles of her new flatmates were just that infectious. Either way, Kara exhaled a long, satisfied breath and marveled at how vibrant the storm color of Lena’s eyes were against the particular shade of periwinkle blue she wore.

“...Are you wearing a cat sweater?” Kara wondered aloud, eyes dropping to the large, stitched cartoon face of a tuxedo cat across the front of Lena’s clothing. It reminded her of the sweaters she and Alex wore around Christmas time, only instead of ugly snowman or reindeer patterns, this one just had a giant cat emblazoned across it.

Lena touched a hand to the design, defensive. “It’s _cute_ ,” she insisted, “and I happen to love cats, thank you. Whoever this belongs to obviously does too.”

“It’s adorable,” Kara agreed, laughing. “But never something I thought you’d wear.”

“I don’t just own pantsuits and cocktail dresses, Supergirl. I wear casual clothes.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

From the kitchen, “She’s lying, the only other things she owns are power suits and a _Depeche Mode_ concert tee shirt.”

Kara burst into more laughter, and Lena followed, smiling so wide that Kara caught sight of her dimple. Something swooped low in her stomach; it was rare, Kara realized, to see Lena act carefree and jovial. To have something to laugh at and joke about. The last time she’d seen Lena smile that thoroughly was before Medusa, and it hadn’t been around Supergirl. In fact, Kara was surprised, with all things considering, that Lena would smile that way around her now. She wondered what changed.

“Alright, Supergirl, the mountain of potatoes is for you. Lena, here’s your plate,” Jess said, interrupting Kara’s thoughts.

Kara trailed after Lena as they made for the dining table. True to her word, a mountain of hash browns awaited, as if Jess had made an entire bag of potatoes just for her. They were golden brown and fluffy, and as Kara sat in front of her pile, she suspected that Jess would have made a fantastic personal chef.

“Where did you learn how to cook like this?” Lena asked, and Kara nodded, looking over at Jess as she slid into a chair at the end of the table.

“Uh, my dad,” Jess said, gazing down at the hashbrowns. Kara almost missed the glimmer of remorse in her stare before she cleared her throat and smiled up at the both of them. “He had his own restaurant for a while and taught me and my sister how to cook when we were little.”

Lena’s expression was of pure surprise. “I didn’t know you had a sister,” she said, a forkful of potato suspended in front of her mouth.

“I thought you said you learned in college?” Kara interjected, frowning.

Jess waved her fork at Kara. “No, I learned how to cook with the random crap I found because I was broke and had nothing else in college. The actual cooking part I learned from my dad.” She glanced over at Lena. “She’s my twin, actually. And she’s at Stanford currently, working on her medical license.”

Without missing a beat, Lena asked, “Is that why you’re going to night school for bioengineering?”

Jess blinked. Kara looked between the two of them, slightly lost.

“I’m not trying to compete with my sister, if that’s what you mean,” Jess said, trying to scowl in denial and failing in a way that Kara found endearing.

Lena just looked at her, silent and knowing.

After a moment, Jess took a swig of water from her glass and sighed, “Okay, _fine_. Yes, she’s part of the reason I’m going back to school. She just-- she tends to boast a lot, and she likes to bring up the fact that I don’t really do anything with my degree, so I thought, if I understood more about the kind of work L-CORP did, I could, I don’t know, be more useful?”

Lena’s eyebrows drew together with concern. “Jess,” she said, softly. “Do you feel like you aren’t useful at the office?”

Kara gazed at Jess, curious. Her cheeks flushed at the attention.

“No, I feel plenty useful,” she said quickly, “and I love my job, I promise. But Jasmine is a doctor, or will be one soon, and I can’t even explain half of the things that L-CORP does because I don’t know how it works.”

Lena nodded slowly. “You know, I would have been happy to just explain it to you,” she said gently, “instead of you having to go back to school.”

Jess huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry. I want to learn about the basics, and you literally don’t have the time to sit and teach me everything-- I would know, I make your schedule. I wanted to go back to school.” She lifted her glass in toast-like fashion and finished with a flare, “You inspired me, Miss Luthor.”

It was Lena’s turn to blush now, and Kara nearly forgot her train of thought at the sight.

“What about going to school to become a chef?” Kara suggested suddenly, and both Lena and Jess turned to look at her, surprised. She speared some hashbrowns with her fork and shrugged. “Seems like you’d be really great at it.”

Jess chewed at her lip for a moment. “I don’t know. I don’t really think of that as a career option for me,” she admitted, glancing back down at her plate. “Besides, that sounds really time consuming. And like I said about reporting--putting my work out there for criticism? Not really my thing.”

Lena hummed. Kara could tell she had more she wanted to say, but for Jess’s sake-- or maybe Supergirl’s-- she kept those opinions to herself. “Well, if you ever want to give it a try, please don’t hesitate to tell me,” she said, and Kara nodded along with her in agreement, “I’m not one to keep someone from doing what they should be doing. I want you to be happy.”

Jess laughed, holding her hand in front of her mouth. “Well thanks, _moms_ , but I’m plenty happy with what I do now.”

Lena smiled into her glass as Kara narrowly missed choking on her bite of food.

Without waiting for Kara to recover, Lena turned back toward Jess and started, “So, speaking of happiness, how is everything with Thomas--”

“... _\--Supergirl!_ ”

The three of them froze. A fraction of a second later, Kara jumped up from her seat and snatched the comm off the kitchen counter, where it had been lying silent all morning. It crackled to life now and Winn’s voice hissed through the receiver again.

“Supergirl! Do you copy?”

“Copy, Agent Schott,” she said, careful not to crush the phone in her hand from the surge of alarm that shot through her. She stared over at Lena, who watched her with wide, intense eyes. “What’s wrong? Where’s Alex?”

“She’s fine, she’s with Superman. Can Lena hack into one of the nearby secure netwo--”

“Already have,” Lena said. She yanked open her laptop that had been sitting abandoned on the table. Kara rounded the table to stand next to her, one hand on the back of her chair, and held out the comm for everyone to hear.

“--Uh, great. The newest broadcast is airing right now, you can access--”

“Got it,” she called.

“Okay, is your connection encryp--”

“You can test it yourself if you’re worried,” Lena interrupted, steel to her voice.

Kara could almost hear Winn sulk on the other side, but he said nothing else as the live broadcast began its feedback.

It was just as disconcerting to see Lena’s face on the screen as it had been the first few times. Kara saw Lena’s knuckles whiten in a fist as soon as her reflection appeared, sitting behind a desk that Kara immediately recognized as the one in her office at L-CORP. Her hair was done up in a neat bun, similar to how the Lena at the table had hers now, but she wore an elegant black dress and blazer studded with pearls at the collar. Very unlike the knitted cat sweater the other Lena was wearing.

What unsettled Kara the most was the coy smile on Lena’s face, all sharp edges and dangerous promises. It looked...wrong, even though Kara had seen that expression before whenever Lena had to play the part of the hard, scrappy CEO to a room full of balding old men. It was a farce, then, a front that she displayed when necessary. But now, Kara couldn’t help but think that the Lena on the screen was poised like a viper ready to strike. Like she was proud of it all, and enjoying the aftermath. Kara gripped the chair harder. It splintered.

“Good morning, National City,” TV-Lena said, flashing a brilliant smile. It wasn’t the same smile Kara saw earlier-- no dimple, and it made her insides run cold instead flushing her with warmth. “It has been nearly a full week since our collaborative project to protect our citizens was set in motion. I am pleased to announce that it has been a massive success.”

Kara twitched involuntarily at the sentiment, and Lena’s fist on the table tightened.

The broadcast continued, “We’ve seen a sharp decline in the violent crime rate city-wide-- a near twenty-three percent drop. Property crime follows at a drop of seventeen percent. School attendance is at a record high. Obviously, from these numbers alone we can see that National City has become a haven of safety for its human citizens--”

Winn cut in immediately, “That’s a complete lie. I’m pulling numbers from the police database, and there’s been no reduction on that scale. I mean, there’s been a drop, but nothing so dramatic. I--wait-- they _are_ dropping-- _oh_ ….oh god, this is so illegal! They’re actually altering the data as we speak. How are they getting away with this?”

“--and I assure you, they are safe where they are. The unanimous decision to keep their whereabouts undisclosed remains for their safety and ours. Again, aliens and humans cannot co-exist. We are from different worlds, and such we cannot inhabit the same space without huge repercussions. I know some of you are concerned about the treatment of our alien guests, but let me remind you: before the aliens, we had our own problems to fix--we still do. We cannot be responsible for others, especially non-natives to this planet, until we are able to take care of our own issues. Our resources are finite and we must prioritize our own people first and foremost. Until that point, the aliens must remain in their sanctuaries and care for their own, as well.”

Kara clenched her teeth together and bared them at the screen. As if the Lena staring back at her could see Kara’s snarl, she smiled. The Lena sitting in the chair in front of Kara made a noise of disgust.

“Something’s wrong,” Winn said, and suddenly furious typing chattered through the phone. “The broadcast-- it’s a live feed, like the others, but, it’s--it looks like they’re...receiving?”

Lena leaned forward, staring at the screen. Her mirror in the video tilted her head, still smiling. At the very top of the computer, a small little red light suddenly flickered. Kara’s eyes widened. With a sharp inhale, Lena snatched the laptop and slammed it closed.

“Fuck,” Lena spat, standing up. Kara stepped away from her chair, only barely registering that her grip on the wood had fractured it completely. Jess got out of her seat and stood, nervously looking between them. “That wasn’t a broadcast, it was a hunt. They’re still looking for you, Supergirl.”

Kara had to consciously hold the phone without moving her hand, or else it would be crushed into tiny fragments from the tension rolling through her. Anger simmered deep in her gut and threatened to explode out from her like a tightly coiled spring.

“It’s still rolling,” Winn said from the phone. Kara glared down at it. “She’s saying-- well, she’s implying that you and Superman caused more aliens to seek refuge here, and with them came criminals and race wars. Which, well with Fort Rozz…”

“Winn,” Kara growled, warning.

“Right, sorry. Uh, oh--oh jeez. She just said that if you were truly against it from the beginning--” his voice became small, hesitant to continue. “Well, you would have said something and stopped them. She--uh-- she says if you go to L-CORP, they can reverse everything.”

Perhaps it was a good thing Kara’s heat vision hadn’t recovered yet, otherwise the phone would have been a fried carcass of plastic and metal on the floor. As if sensing the imminent doom of the comm in Supergirl’s hand, Lena tugged it gently free of Kara’s grasp and took over the conversation.

“Agent Schott,” she said, staring down at her computer. “Tell me how they were able to get through my security and tap into my disabled video recorder.”

“They did _what?_ ”

Lena exhaled with thinly veiled aggravation. “I don’t know how they did it. I designed those firewalls myself, yet somehow they bypassed every single one and were able to reactivate the disabled camera.”

Winn hummed. “I didn’t get any alert that they were trying to access our cameras. Wait, do we have cameras? Anyway, are you using a proxy?”

“Yes. They won’t be able to GPS track us. But somehow they remotely accessed my computer.”

“They can’t do that without physically accessing your computer at least once to install some kind of driver. Who has access to your office?”

Lena made a noise of frustration as she massaged her temple with one hand. “Absolutely no one but myself and my assistant, who is sitting right next to me.” Jess smiled faintly from where she had slowly sank back into her chair at the table. “I’m not one to take the word ‘impossible’ lightly, but--”

Kara didn’t hear Winn’s answer. She left the room, striding out of the apartment until she reached the stairwell. The walls felt like they were suffocating her at every turn. Her chest was tight, and each breath burned, coursing through her like acid. Her side ached, and her leg began to throb as she paced back and forth. She rammed her shoulder into the steel door of the stairwell and it burst open, nearly wrenching off its hinges when it slammed with a powerful _bang_ against the cement wall. Kara scaled the stairs two at a time, hardly noticing them, until suddenly she was facing the exit door to the rooftop. She stared at it, breathing hard.

It was the most obvious trap. Kara gripped the metal railing attached to the wall, and it dented easily under her fingers. The invitation by the imposter was so blatant it was like a slap in the face. They knew full well Supergirl couldn’t go to L-CORP, and they were going to use that to their advantage to placate anyone who still had doubts about the entire operation. They were going to use her absence as approval for their insidious plan, and by the time that Supergirl regained her powers and actually could do something about it-- well, from what she could tell, the other aliens would be untraceable. They already were.

Or, the invitation was real. And should she go to L-CORP now, unable to fly or conjure her heat vision and barely able to sustain the same strength she could before, she’d be easy pickings. Supergirl wouldn’t have most of her powers to rely on, and who knew what kind of tech they’d have waiting for her if she showed her face.

A Kryptonian curse exploded from Kara. Her voice reverberated through the stairwell with piercing, guttural fury and echoed down each floor in deep and strangely inhuman pitches. She turned on her heel to bash her fist into the concrete of the nearby wall, hammering it until the dust coated her knuckles and the shards littered down on the stairs by her feet. After several strikes, she finally noticed the spasms of pain ricocheting through her abdomen and stumbled back a step, clutching her ribs with a bruised hand. She hissed through her teeth until the stabbing, white-hot flashes under her skin subsided.  

Something clicked softly through the stairwell, faint at first but steadily growing louder until Kara recognized the sound of footsteps.

Kara stood rigid. She turned, fists still clenched at her sides, the blaze of her eyes still as bright and untamed as burning stars. Sun streamed in from the window set into the rooftop door behind her, alighting on the thin coating of sweat across her shoulders and chest. Strands of blonde hair stuck to the sides of her face. Her breath was still a little haggard and came in short, harsh puffs of air. She must have been an intimidating sight to behold, for the next moment Lena rounded the corner of the stairs, took one look at Supergirl and froze, eyes wide.

“Are you alright?” Lena asked, quiet and cautious, watching Kara with a guarded look.

For a long moment Kara stared back at her. It was difficult to see Lena’s face and not think of the gods-awful situation they were stuck in. To not think of the broadcast and everything it entailed. To not think about how woefully inept she was at handling this on her own. It was like Medusa, all over again.

Kara took a deep breath. Released it slowly. “I don’t--I don’t know,” she said, closing her eyes briefly as she spoke. Her voice was hoarse, and her throat scratched-- from emotion or from the curse she’d bellowed out, there was no way to tell. When she opened them again, Lena was gazing at her with that expression Kara had seen before, back in her office. The distant, wary look, not quite mistrusting but skirting the edge of disbelief.

It only pissed her off more. She turned sharply on her heel, not caring that Lena took a quick step away from the movement. With her back to Lena, Kara stared over at the rooftop door again and clenched her fists tight at her sides.

“I’m not alright,” she said, harsh and angry. In a blur, Kara twisted and struck at the wall again. Debris littered down at her feet from the impact, and through the furious energy she felt a twinge of pride at the speed in which she moved. “I’m not alright, okay?” Another hit. A crack split across the drywall toward the ceiling. “I’m _weak_ , and _useless_ , and I am _definitely--_ ” punch, “ _\--not--_ ” punch, “-- _alright!”_

The last blow forced an arm-length’s deep hole through the drywall. Thankfully, Kara’s strike hadn’t plowed completely through to the other side, but she suspected another hit would have done the trick. Her erratic breaths filled the silence that followed her until she was painfully aware that Lena was not going to say anything more.

She pinched her eyes shut again. She couldn’t turn and look at her. Couldn’t face Lena, for everything that she represented in this fucked up situation and for everything else, raging inside of her, that Lena had suddenly become. Couldn’t look into Lena’s eyes and apologize, because she wasn’t sorry for exploding, because those eyes had twisted something in Kara’s chest that she couldn’t untangle. Her lungs squeezed again. Those eyes that looked at Kara somewhere between admiration and suspicion, and at this point she couldn’t tell which one hurt worse.

Kara missed the DEO, where there was an endless supply of concrete slabs and cubes for her to bludgeon to smithereens.

Lena shifted slightly. There was a strange tightness to her as she said, “Winn says the broadcast was able to mask some kind of phishing software that runs facial recognition through a device’s camera.” Kara didn’t have to guess whose face they were looking for. “Whoever had access to my laptop before was able to download some kind of remote activation code to the hard drive. When we streamed the broadcast, it activated the camera, and the broadcast itself fed in the disguised program.”

Kara finally looked back up. Looked hard, and steeled herself, because if she was any softer she was going to break. “Do they know where to find us?” she asked flatly, meeting Lena’s gaze.

Lena was as blank as Kara forced herself to feel. “I’m not sure,” she said, quiet.

Kara gripped a fist again, but this time she refrained from punching the wall. The time for destructive fury had passed, and it wasn’t going to help anyone to have a bunch of holes peppering the walls between their precarious sanctuary and the outside world that wanted to find them. Instead, she squared her shoulders and pushed past Lena without looking at her again.

A soft hand touched Kara’s bare shoulder. She stopped.

“Supergirl--” Lena started, hesitant.

Kara turned slightly, regarding Lena over her shoulder for a moment. What could she say? That she couldn’t name whatever storm was howling through her, because every time Lena so much as looked at her, it sent a rush of lightning snapping through her veins? Was she really only angry about the segregation, or was there something else, something deeper that lurked beneath Kara’s self-doubt and failing esteem?

Lena tried to say something more, but whatever words she managed to form were drowned under a shattering scream that echoed up through the stairwell. It stopped abruptly a second later.

All other thoughts froze. Lena held her stare, wide-eyed, and breathed, “Jess!”

The horror in her voice mirrored the sick feeling in Kara’s gut. She lunged down the stairs, barely stepping but jumping whenever she could-- it was as close to flying as she was going to get. Her heart hammered in her ears. Somehow the stairwell had grown longer, because it felt like she’d been running down steps for an eternity before she reached the tenth floor. She raced through the open stairwell door and skidded around the the corner through the hall. It was quiet, as it usually was, but now Kara found the silence unsettling and wrong.

The apartment door was shut. Kara burst through it, barely paying the door mind as it nearly split in two from the force. The dining room table was smashed, Lena’s laptop abandoned on the floor a few feet away but still intact. She looked around wildly, and saw no sign of Jess.

“Where--” she started, but a moment later a loud _thud_ alerted her to something in the bedroom.

Kara tore open the door. Literally-- it broke off the hinges in her hand, and she froze with it still gripped by the knob as she stared inside.

Jess was in the nest, and someone was on top of her, holding her down. She squirmed beneath them, her face pushed into the blankets by the intruder’s gloved hand. As soon as the door had been ripped away, the person snapped up to lock eyes with Kara.

It was an operative wearing the same fatigues as the men from Lena’s office at L-CORP. He was unfamiliar, but his face struck Kara as strange for some reason, though it was not immediately apparent to her as to why. He bared his teeth at her for the interruption, though he did not let up on Jess. Kara knew that the only thing saving that man’s life from not meeting a fiery, painful end was the fact that she still could not conjure her heat vision yet-- though her eyes prickled from the strain of her effort.

Snarling, Kara wielded the wooden door and advanced into the room. The operative ducked as Kara brought it down on his head. But when she felt no impact, Kara lifted it again, and found that the agent had disappeared. Jess was still in the nest; she panted into the pillows and did not make any move to get out.

Kara spun around. Before her rotation even finished, something hard, like stone, pelted into the side of her jaw and threw her off balance. She stumbled, her knees hitting the edge of the nest. Not a second later something smashed into her side, and she was faintly aware that had it been on the same side as her bullet wound, the stars behind her eyes might have made her pass out. Instead, she dropped the door into the nest-- garbling out something of an apology to Jess through the curse she spat from the pain-- and braced herself for the whirl of motion just within her peripheral.

She managed to catch the agent’s fist as he hailed down another strike. She wrenched him to the side and then stomped her heel into his stomach, kicking him back into the hallway. His head connected with the wall on his way, giving Kara an extra second to gain on him before he could pick himself up.

Or, so she thought. His speed was incredible-- or maybe it was his resilience, because as soon as he fell, the agent rolled into a dive and was suddenly back on his feet as if none of the hits had even fazed him. Kara blinked. Either she was slower than she thought, or he was faster than he should have been.

“Thanks for making this easy for me,” he rasped, flashing Kara a grin. His voice was oddly rough, and it sent goosebumps over the back of her neck.

Kara narrowed her eyes at him. “Easy? This is just the warm-up,” she snapped at him, darting forward. Something akin to power blazed within her, burning through her blood like Rao’s light had. It wasn’t quite the same, nor was it as potent, but it was enough to close the few feet of distance between them in half a breath’s time. She grabbed him by the front of his fatigues and smashed him into the nearby wall, ignoring the chunks of drywall as it rained on them both.

One of his gloved hands grabbed the side of her face. He dug his fingers into her cheek, searching for something to hold onto as she slammed him back into the wall. Then, without warning, a powerful jolt of electricity seared through her chest and pushed her backward. Kara staggered, heaving for breath and spasming from the current still seizing through her muscles. His other hand was bare, and he held it out toward her still, small trails of lightning arcing between his fingers.

He grinned again, and Kara suddenly realized why he looked so strange. His face was too perfectly symmetrical, too well-shaped and rounded. The green of his eyes shimmered with light as he stared at her. The more she looked at him, the more Kara saw that his nose was slightly too pointed, his mouth slightly too large, and the teeth that comprised his triumphant smile were too many in number. She reeled back from him, as much as she could while the last flickers of lightning snaked through her limbs.

“You’re an alien,” Kara said, stunned.

The agent moved closer. He leaned down until he was eye-level with where Kara had involuntarily bent onto her knees.

“Great observation, princess,” he said. His breath smelled like hot iron. “So’s half the city.”

Kara squinted at him. “Yeah, and they’re all _missing_.”

His grin did not waver. His ungloved hand reached out, nearly brushing Kara with a tongue of dancing electricity. It hissed and snapped quietly by her ear. “You see, Supergirl,” he said, the throaty voice of his sending more chills under Kara’s skin. How she hadn’t realized his alienness sooner was frankly embarrassing. “The great thing about this project is that you have no idea. None at all.”

She jerked her head away from him. The numbness in her muscles was beginning to melt away, but not quickly enough. Somehow it had rendered her partially paralyzed, unable to move more than a few inches in any direction. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, eyeing him with absolute confusion.

He shook his head. “No, not yet. You’ll figure it out sooner or later.”

A noise drew Kara’s attention at the doorway. Both she and the operative turned to see Lena standing there, staring at the lightning writhing around the alien’s bare palm. The second she met eyes with him, Kara could see his features brighten in delight.  

“Even better,” he said, snapping his fingers. The lightning sparked, loud and pulsating, in his hand.

Panic blossomed in Kara’s chest. “Lena, _RUN!”_ she cried. She tried to lift a hand toward the woman in the doorway, to ward her off and somehow stop the alien before her from giving chase, but her hand barely moved more than a few, trembling inches as her muscles locked and fought against the motion.

Lena turned and fled back into the stairwell.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. This was longer than I planned.   
> Enjoy!

The alien’s laugh echoed in Kara’s ears. It was a dark, hungry laugh that grated her every which way, under her skin and coarse like sandpaper sliding through her head. She’d encountered dangerous aliens before--they’d come from her home planet, even. Evil ones. It wasn’t like non-humans were exempt from depravity and darkness. Lena knew that much, and Kara knew it, though she loathed to admit it. It felt like admitting a deep secret, slimey and unpleasant, that crept doubt and vile whispers through her being. Aliens could be bad. She knew that. She hated it.

This one was without a doubt among one of the worst she’d come across. The sick feeling in her stomach as she watched him give chase-- well, not quite a chase as much as it was the deliberately slow, leisure prowl of a predator on the tail of prey followed into a corner-- bubbled up through her stomach and into her mouth as bile. There was something new and frightening about the lightning he wielded. Kara’d been struck with electricity before (she was reminded, unpleasantly, of her fights with Livewire) and could get to her feet to fight after a bolt to the chest. This was different. Still bent onto her knees, Kara trembled, caught in a cage of her own flesh and bones that refused to unhinge and move. It was worse than being powerless.

“I’m going to kill you,” she promised, her voice shaking in the effort to breathe. He couldn’t hear her, but the words manifested on her tongue like a prayer regardless. A threat that she fully intended to follow through on if he so much as laid a finger on Lena. She might still, considering he’d nearly suffocated Jess.

Soft footfalls drew Kara’s attention. Though unable to turn and look, she felt Jess’s presence like shame that permeated through every tissue. Here was Supergirl, kneeling on the carpet of a home she didn’t belong in, helpless as an intruder pursued their dear friend to a dead end. Kara closed her eyes and exhaled loudly against the nausea flooding her system.

“Supergirl.” Kara opened her eyes. Jess crouched in front of her, concern wide in the dark amber of her gaze. It reflected the vivid, blinding worry eating through Kara’s own heart in that same moment. “Supergirl, come on.”

“I can’t,” Kara said, hating the whimper that curled at the end of her statement.

Jess’s expression didn’t change, but her mouth set harder. She gripped Kara’s shoulders and held her firmly. “Get up, Supergirl,” she ordered, in a voice that oddly reminded Kara of Lena finalizing a business deal. Demanding, sharp, where failure or refusal wasn’t an option-- they weren’t words that existed in any vocabulary. It made her think of J’onn.

Kara’s eyes watered.

Jess’s small hands moved up from her shoulders and cupped Kara’s face. Not gently, like Lena had done before, but stern. There was no anger, at least none directed at Kara herself-- it was the fire behind Jess’s stare that Kara could feel in the tension of her grip. “Lena needs you,” she said, her voice a degree softer, and this time fear bled in through a small, imploring waver in those words. It sent pain shooting through Kara’s chest.

A scream filtered through the open door, faint and terrified.

Something broke in Kara, shattered through her entire being like a fist through glass. She took a startled breath that burned in her lungs as ice and fire swirling in her chest. Jess moved back, and somehow-- _somehow--_ Kara lurched forward into the space the younger woman had occupied. Awareness vacated every sense, every synapse in her body, and instead the void of the cosmos swallowed her whole and emptied her mind. The world fell away, and time was a distant concept that crawled past like a glacier.

The space between seconds. The place where divine fury blazed as terrible and righteous as a supernova, all-searing fire and all-consuming, blinding light. Before, Kara had sought it, brought it into her being to fuel the power lurking in her blood. She’d welcomed it into her body and thoughts and leashed it. Tamed it to a productive cause. That was what it meant to be a superhero, Kara had learned over the years. To take the power bestowed upon her and shape it into a beautiful tool to protect and serve.

This time, Rao did not wait for her invitation. He thundered into her soul, overtaking everything in a vengence that incinerated every last thought of her purpose, her resolve. The stone that she carried deep in her heart to keep her grounded and mindful fractured, spilling light out like sunshine breaking free out of every crack. It bolted through her faster than lightning to a point that was nearly painful.

Kara didn’t hear anything else Jess said. Though vaguely aware that Jess stood close, nothing else but the sound of Lena’s frightened cry reverated through Kara’s consciousness. She felt it on a physical level, a visceral pain cutting deep into the recesses of her heart and soul. There was no time to dwell on why, other than Jess was right: Lena needed her.

Her body responded to Rao’s presence like she’d been drowning for air. Jerky, unsteady movements allowed her to get to her feet like some crushing weight was trying desperately to hold her down. All at once, her vision slipped; she saw all of the building and none of the room around her, everything filtered through the radiographic sight that had, without warning, taken over her visual perception. She tilted her head up, searching for Lena.

There. She was pressed into the metal door of the rooftop exit, another figure advancing slow and patient from the top of the stairs. The floodgates of sound washed through Kara, leaving her reeling from the sudden swell of noise. She swayed slightly and did not feel when Jess placed a steadying hand on Kara’s shoulder. The sound shifted, settled, until the familiar fluctuation of it was reined back under Kara’s control.

“You’re a lot more of a pain in the ass than I was expecting,” the alien was saying. He clicked his tongue.

“Glad to know I can be an inconvenience at the very least,” Lena shot back. Kara could hear the ragged intake of her breath as she spoke. The alien moved closer, huffing a laugh.

Rao flared with fury under her skin. She lunged for the door, baring her teeth when her speed was hampered by the twitches of paralysis still attempting to lock into her muscle. It could not hold back Rao’s power, though, as she pulled herself off the floor entirely. She’d nearly forgotten the sensation of floating after a week of keeping her feet planted on the carpet. Which didn’t surprise her, considering she’d spent most of her life _not_ flying. Yet the moment Kara lifted from the ground, it was like she was home again.

She didn’t see the hallway, or the stairwell, or even the different floors as she shot up between the empty center space of the staircase shaft. It was all background to the light pulsing through her, urging her to apprehend the alien before he hurt Lena.

“--for you, you know. It’s not like we _want_ you dead,” came the alien’s voice.

Kara rose behind the alien. The moment Lena saw her, the fear in Lena’s face melted into something resembling astonishment and relief. And perhaps a bit of disbelief to go with it.

He must have also registered the shift in Lena’s attention, because a second later the alien tensed and turned to look over his shoulder. What he saw, however, inspired the opposite-- Kara watched his eyes blow wide, and the perfectly symmetrical shape of his face contorted into a grimace of vivid disappointment. She could almost see herself reflected in the shine of his round, shimmering eyes, floating in the air, hair wild and backlit by the sun streaming in from the skylight above her.

“Well,” he said, facing Kara fully. His smile was slightly less ecstatic than it had been back in the apartment. “Aren’t you just full of surprises.”

Kara’s eyes narrowed. Her sight hadn’t completely reverted back to normal; she could see partially through the meat of his body and through the aluminum of the door behind Lena to the outside. It would have given her a case of vertigo, had his voice not helped her to focus on his face. That plain, repulsive face. She still didn’t know his name, but at this point she didn’t care-- she was never going to forget him. Not when every inch of herself yearned to throw him out the closest window and see him all the way back down to the earth.

“Get away from her,” Kara growled, deep and low in her chest that sounded alien, even to her own ears. Her eyes flashed. She realized, belatedly, that his flinch was a result of the glow encompassing her eyes that she otherwise wouldn’t have noticed. The burning in her body had spread through every fiber of her being to a point that she might not have recognized the starfire pooling in her eyes until it was too late. In that moment, she really didn’t give a damn.

The alien lifted his hands in casual surrender. “Sure thing, boss,” he said, emphasizing his step away from the woman whose back was still pressed into the corner of the exit door frame.

Kara followed his movements with her own. Slowly, still hovering a good foot or two from the floor.

“So, what’s the plan now, princess?” he asked, flexing his fingers at his sides. Kara kept her gaze trained on his face, though she could still see the flicker of light as it danced around his hands. “Are you going to fry me like a fishcake, or are we going to talk like civilized adults?”

Any other time, it might have given Kara pause. Supergirl was supposed to be rational, right? A hero, Maggie had said. He was playing on Supergirl’s sense of justice, and he knew it.

Kara didn’t pause.

She whipped her hand out and snatched him around the neck. Her palm squeezed around his trachea, and the squawk of surprise he made was cut into a strangled hiss for breath. She pinned him against the wall a good ten inches higher than he could stand. He flailed, scrambling at his own neck. The light in his hands sparked as he grabbed for her wrist, but she only felt a few minor stings brush over the surface of her skin before the electricity winked out of existence.

Kara jerked him forward and then slammed him back into the wall, snarling out a word in Kryptonian she’d long forgotten before now.

“ _Snake_ ,” was the rough, literal translation, and though she highly doubted this scumbag would have known enough about Kryptonian culture to understand it, the venom in her tone was crystal clear.

The alien’s eyes rolled slightly from the force. The impact of his head into the drywall left a large dent in its surface, and Kara rammed him into it again, deepening the depression. The wall cracked. At this rate, it almost mirrored the wall behind her from when she’d punched a hole through it earlier.

There was motion behind her. “Supergirl,” said Lena. A warm hand rested on her shoulder.

Rao was still shining out from her core. Burning in her blood. Her hand clenched around the alien’s neck-- a scrawny neck, really-- and she could feel something under her grip start to give. Something flimsy and easily breakable. It’d be so easy, just a little more pressure and everything would be done. This bastard of an alien wouldn’t be their problem anymore. They’d be safe.  

“Supergirl,” Lena repeated. Her voice was gentle. “We need answers first. We need to know if anyone else is coming.”

Kara stared at the alien’s face. His eyes were half-lidded, and in a few moments he was going to lose consciousness if she didn’t relent soon. The white edges to her vision lessened slightly, and she realized her eyes were still glowing bright and eager to fire.

The hand on Kara’s shoulder slipped down the length of her bicep to the solid muscle of her forearm. “You can do whatever you wish afterward,” Lena added when Kara didn’t respond right away. “He hurt Jessica, so I won’t complain. But I want information from him before he becomes completely useless.”

It took so much effort to lift her fingers from around his throat. But Kara did; she peeled her hand away from his neck, and he slumped down until his feet touched the ground again. He coughed and sputtered, his own hands immediately where Kara’s had been a second prior. A coughing fit seized him, and he sank to his knees.

Kara blinked. She stared at him a moment longer, and then at the hand she still had partially outstretched.

“Oh Rao,” she whispered, hoarse. Ice flooded through her, replacing every blaze Rao had left behind. No-- not Rao. That hadn’t been him boiling hatred through her blood. It couldn’t have been. She stumbled back from the alien until the metal railing of the opposite wall hit her lower backside. Her eyes, now empty of the destructive light threatening to shoot forth, were wide and horrified.

What was she about to do? Was she really going to kill a man for-- for what? Threatening her and her friends? She wasn’t that person-- she hadn’t been before when her friends and family were threatened countless times by humans and aliens alike. What could have changed within her so drastically that she was willing to go to such lengths?

Her breath caught in her chest, growing more rapid with every exhale. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t Rao, wasn’t _her_.

A warm body suddenly pressed in close, and Kara froze as Lena’s arms looped around the back of her neck. The earthy smell of shampoo filled her nose. Her worries evaporated immediately, leaving her blank.

Lena was hugging her.

Hugging. Her-- Supergirl.

With her body. On Supergirl’s.

As Kara’s brain momentarily short circuited, Lena said into her ear, “Thank you, Supergirl.” There was no hidden distrust, no hesitation-- no mask. Just pure, simple gratitude. It melted through Kara as liquid heat, racing down to her toes and fingertips and sending a shiver to her center.

Kara released a long breath. It took her a minute to gather herself, but then she slung her arm around Lena’s backside and returned the embrace, though careful not to squeeze. Her eyes fluttered shut. She wanted so badly to imprint this moment in her memory forever. A moment where Lena was sweet and vulnerable to her, to Supergirl, of her own accord--more than she’d ever been so far. If there was one thing Kara was grateful for during this entire disaster, it was getting to witness the downfall of the barrier she’d erected between herself as Kara Danvers and Supergirl. She could be friends with Lena as both, and maybe someday-- when the time was right-- Lena would understand they were one and the same.

She was so enraptured by the sensation of Lena pressed into her that Kara didn’t hear him.

Lena moved, and Kara opened her arms to release her. But before Lena could step back, she suddenly pitched forward against Kara, knocking her head into Kara’s chin. Her eyes flew open. A startled squeal escaped up from Lena’s throat before dissolving into a broken gasp, and Kara caught her as Lena crumpled, rigid and shaking. Her head tilted back, eyes glossy. Spasms rocketed through her frame, and Kara lowered her gently to the ground with her hand buffering the back of Lena’s head on the concrete.

“You two really ought to pay more attention,” the alien commented, nonchalant. He stood only a foot from where Lena had been standing, looking down at Kara crouched on the floor with the corner of his mouth ticked upward. He wiggled his sparkling fingers at her when she lifted her gaze to stare at him.

Wherever that fury had gone, it came roaring back with an intensity that would have scared Kara, had she had the capacity to even think about it. It swelled up through every cell in her body, scorching her from the inside white-hot and terrible. She tasted ash and acid in her mouth.

A furious scream ripped out of her. Streams of blinding laserfire burst forth from her eyes and struck the alien’s hands from where he had them lifted protectively in front of himself. As the energies of her heat vision and the lightning crashed together, an explosion knocked him back a few feet and Kara draped herself over Lena’s trembling figure to protect the immobilized woman from the blast. Her hand cradled one side of Lena’s head and she pressed her temple against Lena’s cheek, listening for any evidence that the shock had caused any internal damage. There’d been a brief stint of arrhythmia, but now Lena’s heart hammered strong and true, though fast enough to give Kara some concern.

She only paused long enough to make sure Lena could breathe before rising to her feet. Rage writhed ugly and dark in her; she bared her teeth at the alien where he’d been kicked backward by the blast. He didn’t look so bizarrely perfect anymore; his hair was disheveled, and his face was flushed and blotchy. He regarded her with narrowed eyes, though his smile was still stretched over his mouth filled with too many teeth.

“Now _this_ is how you talk like civilized adults,” he said, standing. He brushed some dust off his fatigues and clapped his hands together. The lightning snapped and flashed. “Where were we?”

Her fists curled until her knuckles were white. “You have one hell of a death wish,” she growled.

The alien’s smile faltered slightly. “You have no idea.”

He was fast; Kara had almost forgotten until he darted forward, swiping at her with his bare hands. She ducked just as the electricity crackled and hissed by her ear. Using the wall behind her as leverage, Kara pushed away from Lena and tackled him down the steps. The momentum carried them crashing down to the next floor, where they parted and Kara slammed her shoulder into a wall as the alien rolled back onto his feet just a yard away.

Kara jumped into the air when he lunged for her again, this time managing a kick to his jaw when he attempted to swerve around another burst of heat vision. It sent him stumbling back a few paces, but not enough.

“You’ve really put a snag in the plans, Supergirl,” he said, rubbing at his face. He spit out something dark, like blood. “You weren’t supposed to have your powers back this soon.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Kara snapped at him. She dove with just enough speed to catch him before he danced out of the way; she grabbed him by the shoulders and twisted sharply in the air to throw him across the stairwell and into the protective railing on the other side.

He hit the guardrail with an audible “oof.” Before he could fully extract himself from the dented metal, Kara swooped low and struck him in the face with a fist. It felt like hitting a steel wall. She grit her teeth as he reeled back from the blow. Whatever kind of alien he was, he wasn’t going down easily. She moved away from him quickly, eyeing the sparks in his hands.

He gave himself a little shake. “So tell me, Supergirl,” he said, leaping onto the rail and perching on it as nimble as a cat. Though he looked a little harried now, nothing else suggested the fight was affecting him at all. He tilted his head to the side, round eyes flashing with light. “What’s so special about Lena Luthor? What’s with all the theatrics?”

Kara blasted more laserfire at him instead of answering. He had to skitter quickly out of the way, leaving a twin trail of red-hot burn marks in the walls behind him. As he veered down the steps to the next floor, Kara pursued quickly, eyes glowing and prepared to fire again.

She screeched when his fist came out of nowhere and struck her in the stomach, releasing a bolt of electric current into her body simultaneously. Her muscles and joints threatened to lockdown again and she landed haphazardly on the other side of the stairwell, much like a tossed ragdoll. He watched her, unimpressed.

Kara glared over at him. With visible effort, she struggled back onto her feet, though she could not do much more than stand.

“Well, even with your powers back, I thought you’d be a little more…” his gaze dragged down her figure pointedly. Then he shrugged. “Well. More.”

“Do you ever shut up?” she bit out.

Another shrug. “Not really.”

Kara gathered her strength from deep inside herself. It felt like dragging up a thousand-ton lead ball from the depths of the ocean; teeth clenched, she willed herself to focus, doing her best to ignore the tremble in her limbs and the sweat trickling down her neck and behind her ears.

“So what’s your endgame, anyway?” she rasped as the alien sauntered calmly down the steps on the opposite side of the stairwell. “You found me and the real Lena Luthor. What’s next?”

He paused. Pursed his lips. “I’m just a scout,” he said, “an errand boy. I’m not privy to the ‘master plan,’ if that’s what you’re getting at.” He snorted. “I wouldn’t tell you, anyway.”

“No? Sounded like you knew enough about it.” Her eyes narrowed further. “You seem like the type to brag.”

The alien stopped a pace away from where Kara stood twitching on floor fifteen’s landing. He held both palms in front of himself and Kara watched as the lighting around his hands jumped back and forth, like some kind of strange, electric slinky. He certainly was a show-off, and from the grin that lit up his face at Kara’s narrowed look, he knew it.

“Listen,” he said, suddenly sounding bored. “As much as I’ve enjoyed this, I’ve got a schedule to keep, and you’ve screwed it up enough. You want to know what happens to Little Luthor? I don’t know the juicy details, but she’s too much of a liability when the big boss is wearing her face. She disappears. But don’t worry, your human friend downstairs will be just fine.”

Kara’s eyes darkened, nearly black. The tremor that rippled through her was not one caused by the temporary paralysis, though the alien didn’t notice. “And myself?”

He clicked his teeth together in thought. “ _That_ one I do know. But I’m not gonna tell you. It’s more fun if you find out yourself, just like I did.”

Her thoughts paused a moment. Just like he did?

The snapping of the lightning in his hands drew her attention again. It waved back and forth, flickering tongues of light toward her as he fanned out his hands. She wondered, briefly, just what kind of alien he was. She couldn’t recall any off the top of her head that fit his description, nor the type of electricity that he wielded. It was moments like these that she really could have used J’onn’s expertise or Winn’s ability to scour through the DEO database for alien species that might have fit. Strengths, weaknesses, sensitive areas on the body-- information that would give her the upperhand. Kara was pretty certain she already knew his strengths, but there was little that would do for her in this moment.

So, when she had neither J’onn or Winn at her disposal, Kara had one more option:

Improv.

Laserfire blasted him directly in the chest, exploding as it crashed through the writhing light. The alien jumped back, somewhat anticipating the blast this time, but Kara saw him wince as the fabric of his fatigues singed from her vision. The distance he gave her was enough. Eyes still glowing, Kara grabbed the railing set into the wall and ripped it from the cement like a thread pulled from a seam. A good seven foot of the railing came with it, just long enough to clip the surprised alien across the face and send him toppling over the guardrail and into a plunge to the floors below. Kara dove after him, twitching and grimacing and slower than she would have liked, but still quick enough to follow his descent. Though he couldn’t fly like her, he was swift in his reflexes and grabbed the guardrail of a lower floor as he fell. He hauled himself up and over, then turned around.

Kara was there. She had the railing in her hands, and though the rail was stiff and had chunks of cement stuck to the hinges that originally fastened it to the wall, the fury blazing through her made it as malleable as rope. It twisted easily in her grip, and his gaze flickered between it and her glowing face with a smidge of uncertainty. She floated just within arm’s reach. Her eyes blazed white, and had it not been for the split lip and deep bruises darkening the skin around her face and bare shoulders, Kara might have looked like a vengeful angel come to claim her kill.

He was still faster than Kara, especially with her hindered by the spasms in her muscle. As quick as lightning, the alien grabbed the rail in Supergirl’s hands and surged an electric current over the metal. She hissed as it danced up the railing, and then clenched her teeth as she slammed it down over his wrists and wrenched it together in one fluid motion. The lightning flared up her arms. Kara cried out, pushing roughly away from him on instinct and retreating back until she found purchase on the other side of the stairs. Red welts laced up her skin, angry and blistering.

The alien staggered backward. With a grunt, he twisted himself every which way, but Kara’s strength had crushed the metal around his wrists completely like a tightened noose. The imprints of her fingers were fresh, as if she’d merely squeezed playdoh together and not a bar of solid galvanized steel. The heels of his palms were forced together by the pressure of the metal, so no matter how much his fingers sparked, it only disappeared into the air. Regardless of how much he wiggled, he was not strong enough to match the power required to pull the railing apart or slip loose.

“Aren’t you a clever one,” he growled. The makeshift handcuff was heavy and awkward and prevented him from moving very far. He strained against it one more time, then sighed.

Kara took a moment to breathe where she’d landed awkwardly on the lower steps. She was able to pull herself up to her feet, but it was a shaky motion, and it betrayed the little amount of strength she had remaining.

The alien watched. “Getting tired there, Supergirl?” he called, waving his fingers at her when she glared up at him. “Gonna go join your darling Lena upstairs for a nap?”

Heat prickled under her skin. The sound of Lena’s name in his voice was like nails on a chalkboard to Kara; she had to suppress the urge to shiver again, even though she still trembled like there was ice in her veins and not white-hot fire.

Lena was fine, Kara knew. She’d never once stopped listening for her heartbeat and the steady hush of her breath. Yet the flash of memory of feeling Lena pitch against her, strangled for air from the shock of the alien’s lightning, drowned out every warning bell chiming in her mind. The occasional hitch and rattle of Lena’s breath stung Kara to her core. There was just something so numbing about the idea of Lena coming to physical harm and then experiencing it firsthand. Kara knew it wasn’t the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last, that the youngest Luthor would come under fire from her enemies. The prospect of it, though, sent an ache into her soul; Lena deserved none of it, despite what her family was responsible for. Lena was good, and kind, and loving. She was the strongest person Kara had ever known. She was Kara’s best friend.

Slowly, like a panther stalking its prey, Kara ascended the stairs that led her to the alien responsible for Lena’s predicament. He eyed her warily as she circled around him.

“I suppose Miss Luthor isn’t here to save me this time,” he commented, though he didn’t sound particularly worried about it. “She’s a little busy, eh?”

Kara was supposed to be conserving the rest of her strength, but before she knew it, her fist was reeling back over her shoulder and then bashing him square in the face with more speed than she’d been able to sustain the entire fight.

The alien’s head jerked back from the impact.

“Well,” he sputtered slightly, blinking. “Lacking some self control there, aren’t you? No wonder the humans are terrified of Supergirl.”

“They aren’t scared of me,” Kara said immediately, stilling. Yet, the thought disturbed her greatly--

Were they?

His face scrunched, and a dribble of blood leaked out the corner of his too-wide mouth. “If they aren’t yet, they should be,” he said, flicking his tongue out to wipe at the blood. Then he grinned. “Won’t be long until they are for sure.”

Kara stared at him. Did he know that there were flames coursing under her skin in that moment, begging to burn him to ash at her feet? She wouldn’t doubt that he could see it in her eyes, but knowing that he was aware-- and possibly even expecting it-- unnerved her to the point that she dropped her fist and stepped back.

“Come on, Supergirl,” he purred, “hit me again. Therapeutic, isn’t it?”

She felt the light drain from her eyes again. Something cold and uncertain took its place.

He leaned forward. “Go on, do it. Hit me. I’m right here, princess. A nice big wallop, right to the mouth. Knock some teeth out for good measure.”

“Why?” she asked, searching his face. “Do you _want_ me to hit you?”

The alien tried to move his arms again. “Oh, please,” he said, “ _you_ want to hit _me_. I can see it in your eyes.”

It was true-- she did. She wanted to pummel his face until his skull curved inwards.

The thought itself sent a chill down her spine.

Carefully, Kara placed her hands on the remaining railing that hung from where it was wound around the alien’s wrists. It took more effort than she hoped, but after a moment, it bent under her hands. When Kara was at full power, she would have been able to shape this rail like it was a mere paperclip. Now, huffing her breath, Kara strained to force the metal around the alien’s torso until it clamped his forearms against his chest and secured him like a straight jacket. It worried her that he was staying so still, like he was patiently waiting for her to finish. If there was some other trick up his sleeve, Kara didn’t know what. It bothered her.

As soon as the binding was satisfactory, Kara stepped back and studied him. She’d wrapped it around him like a coiling snake, careful to keep his hands away from where he could touch her with more stinging electricity. The smile he wore was less enthused, which was promising.

Kara moved behind him once more and jabbed him in the shoulders with the tips of her fingers. He stumbled forward, and she repeated the gesture until he caught on.

“So what’s it gonna be, Supergirl? Interrogation? Hostage? _Torture?_ Ooh, do I get the privilege of being the first in Supergirl’s body count? I can’t wait. How are you gonna do it? Heat vision? Crush my skull? Pitch me out the window?”

“Don’t give me any ideas,” she snapped, shoving him harshly. He slipped on the steps they were descending and crashed into the wall of the next floor. Kara grabbed him by the back of his fatigues and hauled him back onto his feet when he couldn’t do it himself. It was unfamiliar, this inclination to seek pain in her enemy. It crept discomfort under her skin and settled into her bones.

She didn’t want to think about why the choice to hurt him was so easy.

“Jess?” Kara called, leaning over the guardrail to peer down the open shaft of the stairwell. “Jess, can you hear me?”

After a few moments, she heard the rustle of motion. Jess stuck her head out of the door to floor ten a second later.

“Yeah?”

Kara tipped her head toward the captured alien. “I’ve got our new friend tied up,” she said, dragging him toward the rail so Jess could see the extent of his immobility. He waggled his fingers at Jess and grinned. “I need you to come get him and take him downstairs.” After a pause, she added, “Bring something sharp.”

Jess raised an eyebrow at her, but only hesitated briefly before retreating back to their apartment to fetch a tool at Kara’s direction.

“Ah, torture. A classic,” he said, humming slightly.

Kara glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Now that she had a minute to really watch him, she noticed the faint twitch of his upper lip as he spoke. The flare of his nostrils. Little microexpressions that would have been ignored, had she not started to wonder why he seemed so keen on getting himself killed.

Jess trekked up the stairs with a large cleaver in hand. Kara blinked at the size of the blade before looking back to the alien.

“Put him somewhere he can’t get out of,” Kara said, “and if he tries anything, cut off a finger.”

Jess’s eyes widened considerably. “You--you want me to…” she said, looking between the alien coiled in the railing and Supergirl, whose expression was strangely dark. Jess swallowed. “Are...are you sure?”

“Perfectly,” Kara answered, though internally she wasn’t. About hurting him? Yes, absolutely. She wanted his pain, his fear. She wanted retribution for daring to expose her and her friends, and for his audacity to lay a finger on any of them.

Was she sure about herself?

Not at all.

Kara watched as Jess led the alien back to their apartment. She watched through the walls and doors, even though her radiographic sight was starting to fade. Jess did as instructed; the alien was led to a bathroom, where he was forced to lay in an impressively deep tub while Jess kept careful watch from the sink. By that point, sharp pressure began to mount in the space behind Kara’s eyes and throb to the back of her skull. She blinked, allowing her vision to shift back to normal. The headache only lessened somewhat.

The journey back to the rooftop exit was longer than Kara would have liked. She’d tried flying, and found, with annoyance, that she could no longer pull herself off the floor. The fire that fueled her powers had dimmed into distant embers. Still there, still glowing in her stomach, but docile enough that it no longer gave a spark of strength. It didn’t help that she also had to fight against the minor paralysis in order to climb each step.

By the time she made it to the landing of the roof, Kara was exhausted.

Lena was sitting up. Or, rather, she was no longer stretched across the floor where Kara had left her. She was slumped against the wall, her head hanging down.

“It hurts,” she said, when Kara knelt in front of her. A tremble rippled through Lena, and Kara found herself suddenly inspired to go back down stairs and finish the job.

“I know,” Kara said instead, soft and tired. She placed a hand against Lena’s cheek and tilted her head upward. When their gazes met, the embers in her stomach rolled and flared brighter. The storm-gray of Lena’s eyes was vibrant, shining more green than Kara remembered seeing them before. So green, they were almost blue.

Lena placed a shaking hand on Kara’s forearm. Kara tried not to hiss with pain at the pressure on the blisters over her skin, but Lena noticed and grabbed for Kara’s shoulder instead. She strained to rise to her feet, even with Kara’s help. It took several moments of leaning and panting before Lena nodded her head toward the stairs, and Kara carefully, almost agonizingly slow, helped her down.

  


By the time Kara led Lena through the doors of their borrowed apartment, the sky outside the gaping hole of the broken window was a brilliant shade of late midday blue. Heat filtered in through the hole stagnant and oppressive. Kara found Lena a thin tee-shirt to wear, and turned away to give her some privacy as she peeled off the cat sweater from that morning.

“He’s secure?” Lena questioned, and Kara looked over at her. It was a gray college t-shirt, but the wording was so faded she couldn’t make out which university it came from. At no surprise to absolutely anyone, Lena made even a dumpy tee-shirt look attractive.  

“I hope so,” Kara said, sighing. She wiped at her face with a towel.

“Thank you,” Lena said, “for saving me, again. I appreciate it.”

Kara thought about her fight with the other alien. The desire to see him bleed freely and without stopping bubbled low in her, and she cast the feeling aside with a grimace.

“Yeah, of course,” she answered, glancing at the wall shared with the next apartment. Jess was still in there, though Kara could no longer see her through the wall.

Lena paused as she took a sip of water. Movement for her was choppy, but getting easier with every passing moment. “Are you alright?”

Kara was silent. Her head still ached, and she rubbed at it while she mulled over an answer. Was she? She felt alright, physically. The bruises and fatigue that took residence in her body were bearable, at least. Even mentally-- despite her thoughts and desires, Kara still _felt_ sane. But emotionally?

“I’m not...sure,” she admitted, after the silence of the room filled the stuffy air for a long moment. She thought about what the alien said regarding the humans fearing her. Thought about the Luthors, and then the segregation that had--supposedly-- separated all aliens from the humans in National City for everyone’s safety. How Lena had been so adamant about their incompatibility as friends because of Supergirl’s alien heritage. Did they fear her? Some of them did, obviously; she couldn’t deny that, as much as it pained her. Kara had always hoped they didn’t, or would learn to see that all she aspired to be was a friend and someone to help in times of crisis. Fear wasn’t something she ever wanted to inspire in anyone, except maybe in the alien next door. She thought about how it felt to have his throat in her hand, or the feeling of his nose nearly buckling under her knuckles…

Kara took a breath to clear her head. Maybe she wasn’t as sane as she hoped.

Lena moved closer to Kara and touched the back of her hand.

“Is this about you almost killing him?” she asked softly.

Kara jerked in surprise, but the guilt caught up to her expression before she could hide it away. She sat on the arm of the couch and stared down at her hands. With one hand, she clenched and unclenched a fist, trying not to remember the rush of adrenaline that had accompanied the prospect of nearly murdering another person.

“Yes,” Kara said, eyebrows furrowed. “But not just that. It’s like…” she searched for the words, then sighed, “something’s wrong. Something’s changed. I don’t know when, or how. But that--” Kara gestured in the direction of the stairwell out in the hallway, “--that’s not me. It’s not Supergirl. I thought my powers returning meant Rao was coming back to me, but…”

“Rao?” Lena ventured carefully.

Kara glanced up at her. “Rao, the Kryptonian God of Light. When I was younger, I used to think he gave me and Kal these powers to carry out his will to do good and protect the innocent,” she explained, closing her eyes. After a moment, in a quieter voice, Kara began to recite, _“Though we go forth alone, our soul unites us under Rao’s gladsome rays. We’re never lost, never afraid, for we shrink not under the Sun of Righteousness. Rao binds us to those we love. He gives us strength when we have none. And in darker places, He guides us. For Rao sees all, feels all. His love is eternal. Rao, protect us, so that we might protect others. And we shall rise, a fire in His heart, burning and free.”_

The words echoed oddly in her mind, and as they faded, Kara suddenly felt left with a sensation of longing and emptiness.

Lena’s touch melted into a soft squeeze as she gently curled her hand around Kara’s. “That was beautiful,” she said. “I wish I believed in something so...pure.”

Kara turned her gaze to the sunlight streaming in through the broken window. It was brighter than Rao’s light had ever been on Krypton, yet it still reminded her of Him and all of the warmth he used to fill within her. “I haven’t spoken those words in a long time,” she murmured. She’d thought them-- dreamt them, even-- but the last time Kara had prayed to Rao openly and outloud was years ago, before becoming Supergirl had even been a glimmer of thought in her mind. She cleared her throat, then continued in a stronger voice, “I used to say them every night before bed since I was a toddler. When I landed on Earth, they were one of the few things that kept me from losing myself. But I stopped saying them when I realized I wasn’t Kal-- wasn’t Superman. And I hid for a long time and tried to forget I was an...that I wasn’t from this world.”

Lena was quiet, and Kara wondered if she was having a hard time absorbing what Kara spoke of. Not just for the fact that it was religious alien dogma, or even its relation to Superman. To Kara, it seemed silly to bring it all up the face of everything happening around them currently; what could a prayer do, when Supergirl could do nothing?

“So, you thought it was...Rao, but it wasn’t,” Lena remarked, drawing Kara’s gaze back to her.

Kara nodded. “I hope it wasn’t,” she said with a sigh. “Because what I almost did? What I _wanted_ to do? That’s not something Rao would ever ask me to do.”

Lena frowned. “When did you start feeling like this?”

Kara almost said, _When you were in danger,_ but the words halted just as she opened her mouth to speak. Instead, she managed, “I got really angry about him attacking us. My powers kind of just came back full force at the same time. I thought maybe that was His way of telling me to keep fighting.”

“Has that happened before?”

Kara shook her head. “No, not when I’ve lost my powers.” Then, suddenly, she stopped. Though she was no longer paralysed, she felt the air _whoosh_ out from her lungs and freeze her in place. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt that way before. All of the anger, the disgust, the intention to hurt and maim. The fire in the pit of her belly that spread chaos and fear in its wake.

It _was_ familiar.

Her stomach flipped.

“Where’s the phone?” Kara asked, staggering to her feet. Her throat was tight.

Lena looked around the room. The dining table was still trashed, but it didn’t take her long to spy the comm peeking half-way out from underneath a bookshelf beside where they’d enjoyed breakfast earlier that day. She fetched it for Kara and only looked on with wide, concerned eyes as Kara clamped down on the singular key.

The sound of Alex’s voice immediately crackled over the ear piece, but Kara interrupted whatever she was saying with a swift, loud, “ _Agent Danvers_ , we have a situation.”

“What’s going on?” Alex demanded, and Kara was flooded with comfort at the sound of her sister’s voice. She took a moment to regain her composure.

“An agent from that organization attacked our hideout. He’s an alien,” Kara answered, glancing at Lena. She tilted the comm piece toward the other woman to include her in the conversation.

“I know,” Alex said, “Jess told us a little while ago. Is everyone okay?”

“Yes, mostly. I managed to contain him.”

She heard Alex exhale in noisy relief. “Good, glad to hear it. We need to get you three out of there and somewhere safe.”

Lena’s eyebrows lifted high. “You couldn’t have done that sooner?” she asked, before Kara could say anything else.

“Supergirl was incapacitated,” Alex reminded her, “but now that she’s almost back to normal, it’ll make things easier for us to transfer you all to a safehouse.”

“Yeah, about that,” Kara cut in, biting her lip. The way she dragged out each syllable made her sound less like a superhero discussing battle plans, and more like a little sister getting caught in a big-time screw up. When it came to situations like these, where Kara had to rely on Alex to help fix whatever went wrong, it was hard not to fall back into the sibling dynamic.

A small groan stopped her from continuing. “You blew your powers, didn’t you.”

“Yep,” Kara said, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. “Or damn close to it. And we might have another problem. Do you remember when--” she took a deep breath. Of course Alex remembered when. Her damn _arm_ got broken. “--when I was under the influence of red kryptonite?”

Alex wasn’t anticipating that question, and it showed with the stretch of silence that followed Kara’s inquiry.

“Red kryptonite?” Lena asked, blinking at Kara. It wasn’t a look of confusion but of surprise-- Lena might not have been living in National City at the time of Supergirl’s unfortunate run-in with Red K, but she wasn’t naive enough to not know what it was or what it did. Lex’s company likely had all types of kryptonite cataloged from when he was still the owner of it. Kara was immensely grateful that Lena hadn’t been anywhere near this city during that time, but fear of the idea that something similar was taking hold of her now, when Supergirl had no avenues of escape, shot spikes of ice through her abdomen.   

“Instead of affecting Supergirl physically, like green kryptonite does, the red variant alters her mental state,” Alex said, sounding confused herself, “but you haven’t been exposed to any. Have you?”

Kara rubbed at her head again. “I don’t know,” she said, looking back down at her hand. The one that had almost strangled the alien operative to death. “Something’s...off with me. It feels like that time again. I...I almost killed the agent. I _wanted_ to.”

Alex sucked in her breath. “Okay. Okay. We’ll figure this out. Did you pat down the agent? Maybe he’s hiding some of it. If you-- or, rather, probably Lena or Jess should-- can find it and get rid of it, the sooner its effects will wear off.”

“Wait a minute,” Lena said, holding up a hand. “Isn’t red kryptonite a synthetic version? A failed experiment to replicate green kryptonite?”

The word ‘synthetic’ hit Kara like a blow to the gut.

Alex seemed to have a similar reaction from the sharp intake of air Kara heard, but she was quicker than Kara to recover. “Supergirl was hit with synthetic green kryptonite, but you said yourself it seemed to be expertly made,” Alex said, and the tapping of a keyboard filled the background noise of the call. “Tailored specifically to Supergirl.”

“Could it change from green to red?” Kara asked, feeling sick.

“Regular kryptonite only exists in a biological system for so long before it either kills the host or decays completely,” Alex explained. “Which is why in microdoses or exposures to it, you can survive and regain your strength, so long as you’re removed from its effective radius. The red kryptonite effect lasted much longer and appeared to get worse with time, even though you were no longer in range of any. I don’t see any evidence that they could switch between the two variants, especially with synthetic kryptonite, since it tends to be so unstable _without_ the added ability of merging both kinds.”

“How did you stop it?” Lena asked, and Kara pinched her eyes shut. Truthfully, she didn’t remember most of it. And not for the lack of paying attention; it was like her mind had desperately purged as much of the violence and hatred from her memory as it could, but it could never get rid of the scar cut deep into her heart from the injustice of it all. What she _did_ remember was Alex telling her about everything that happened while Kara laid in the sunbed, still dressed in a black suit that reminded her of her dead Aunt Astra.

“We didn’t, actually,” Alex admitted, “we were given a reversal serum by...” Her voice grew soft, as if a new revelation dawned on her as she spoke. “...Maxwell Lord.”

She fell silent. In the same moment, Kara opened her eyes again, and saw Lena stiffen. It wasn’t news to anyone that he had been the one to create the Red K in the first place, even if he provided the means to correct it. But ever since Myriad, Lord had been quiet-- Kara had almost forgotten he was still in the city, since his presence had all but gone underground.

Lena stared at Kara.

Kara stared at Lena.

Alex said nothing.

“Why would Maxwell Lord want to turn me crazy again?” Kara demanded, looking down at the phone as if her sister could see her through the receiver. “I nearly burned the entire city down. I know he hates me, but he doesn’t actually want the city to fall apart, right?”

“A little late for that,” Lena commented, though when Kara shot her a look, Lena was staring off at the wall, deep in thought. “He must have some other goal, if it’s really him.”

“Has the agent said anything about it?” Alex wondered. “For an alien to be working with Lord to isolate all of the other aliens, there must be motive.”

“He’s an asshole, that’s his motive,” Kara growled, flexing her grip on the phone and silently thanking Rao that her super strength hadn’t returned with the sudden flush of aggravation that followed the thoughts of the alien in the other room.

“Supergirl, I need you to stay calm,” Alex said, and though her tone was kind, Kara could hear the urgency in it. The sound of it killed whatever anger had begun to boil within her.

Lena moved close to Kara and touched her arm. “He is, you’re right,” she said, “but did he happen to say anything to you during your fight? Anything that could help us figure out if Max really is behind this?”

Kara tried to wrack her thoughts for anything that stood out to her. Lena’s use of Lord’s casual nickname distracted her for a moment, threading something akin to irritation in her chest before her memory of the fight came into focus. “He told me he doesn’t know the ‘master plan,’ but he did say that you had to disappear or else you’d be a ‘liability,” Kara said, frowning as she recalled her conversation with the alien. “Wouldn’t say what was going to happen to me. And he was trying really hard to get me to hurt him.”

“What do you mean, trying? Sounds like he fought back pretty hard,” Alex said.

“Yeah, but,” Kara waved her free hand, “it was different. He kept saying and--and doing things like he was actively trying to get himself killed, not imprisoned. Even after I already beat him.”

“He kept goading you?”

“Yeah.” Something else came to mind. “I think he knew what was happening. To me. Like, the anger, and the--uh, desire to kill him.”

“Her powers,” Lena said suddenly, snapping her fingers. “The synthetic kryptonite is tied directly to her powers. The green part of it disabled them, allowing her to be infected. It must have taken longer for the red variant to take effect since I took out the bullets and cleaned out as much of it as I could. As she’s regained her powers back, the red kryptonite’s effect has grown with it.” She turned and held Kara’s gaze. “You haven’t been terribly angry the past few days, so it likely went unnoticed. But by provoking you to use your powers at full strength--”

“--he activated the red kryptonite like a switch,” Alex finished, slamming down what Kara assumed was a fist on the other side of the phone. “Or, the bullet was just the vessel. The coating you found was just enough to penetrate Supergirl’s body and release the red internally. Maybe it’s the other way around-- make her angry, jump-start the red kryptonite, and her powers come back in bursts.”

“That makes more sense than crafting a synthetic version that could alternate between variants,” Lena agreed, nodding. “I’m betting he was somehow able to refine the effects since the first incident. Perhaps that’s why Supergirl isn’t getting more and more aggressive with every passing moment?”

Kara blinked. That was true; she hadn’t thought about how the Red K had increased her irritation and hostility over time like turning up the dial on a stove. Now, it simply simmered within her, waiting until her anger was triggered by an external source. There was more control, more awareness.

“I don’t really understand the point of this,” she said, rubbing at her arm where the welts from the lightning began to itch. “If he wanted to turn loose a murderous Supergirl again, why make it a gradual process? I can recognize that something is wrong. Before, it was like someone had just turned up the volume on all the bad thoughts I’ve ever had to max and removed my ability to recognize right from wrong. The rage and hatred influenced all of my decisions.”

“I think the point is to prevent you from realizing it was happening,” Alex mused, still typing in the background. Somewhere close by, Kara heard Winn firing off technical terms and caught Lord’s name several times before her sister continued, “On a normal day, you giving in to anger to such a degree would have been completely out of character. On the other hand, a subtle lowering of your inhibitions might have gone unnoticed, given you were in such a situation that called for drastic measures.”

“Like an alien quarantine,” Lena added.

“Right. It would have been harder for anyone to realize something was different if you were pushed to extremes,” Alex said. “It would have been believable.”

“I would never _kill_ anyone,” Kara argued, her cheeks flushing.

“You weren’t given a reason to, before,” Alex pointed out. “At least, not in the eyes of the public. You always had some way of getting through to your opponents or winning without using lethal force. But everyone has a breaking point, and humans-- especially the ones in this country-- know how easy it is to resorting to lethal force if they feel it necessary. Supergirl killing someone in the heat of the moment isn’t outside the realm of possibility right now.”

“Thanks for your support,” Kara muttered, trying not to look at Lena. That very sentiment had carried through in Lex’s actions and culminated in CADMUS’s formation. Kara didn’t believe it, but it was evident that enough people did. She hoped to Rao Lena wasn’t one of them.

“I know you would never,” Alex said, gently. “But not many people know you like I do.”

Lena lifted an eyebrow at that. But instead of questioning the agent on the other line, she sought out Kara’s gaze and held it. The sunlight behind Kara caught on the gray-green of Lena’s irises, turning them a startling shade of seafoam outlined in rings of deep jade. Kara’s stomach flipped again, but this time it wasn’t unpleasant. “I know you and I have had some differences,” Lena told her, so quiet that Kara wasn’t sure Alex could hear. Her eyes searched Kara’s, and for a brief moment, Kara wondered if Lena could see past the guise of Supergirl and to the woman she knew as a friend. “And I know that where I come has made it difficult for us, but for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a killer either.”

Kara swallowed. She thought of her time in Lena’s office, kneeling down and begging Lena to trust her. Was this it? “And I don’t think you’re defined by where you come from,” she responded, just as quiet. “But thank you. I just hope if this really is Red K making me like this, I don’t end up doing something I’m going to regret.” It was a fear that overshadowed whatever anger still lurked beneath the layers of Kara’s emotions. If she could hurt her sister under the influence of Red K, what would she do to Jess? To _Lena?_

“Jess and I will make sure you never get to that point,” Lena promised firmly.

“Well, just keep in mind this is speculation right now,” Alex said with a small sigh. “We don’t have any actual proof Lord is behind this.”

Lena hummed thoughtfully.

Kara was just glad it hadn’t been Rao burning dark ideas like a brand into her mind. Still, something didn’t seem quite right.

“I feel like there’s something missing,” Lena said, echoing Kara’s thoughts. “A link we’re not seeing here.”

“The missing aliens, maybe? What’s Maxwell Lord got to do with them, and where the hell would he put half a million people? How he managed to get an whole army to take over the entire city?” Kara suggested, taking a few steps toward the window to peer out at the city cloaked in late afternoon sunlight. Off in the distance, she spied a drone glint silver in the light and retreated deeper back into the apartment. “And what exactly has he been up to for the past several months-- making a Bizarro Lena?”

“I think we need to pay this alien a visit,” Alex said. “We need answers, and fast. I don’t like leaving you three in there any longer than necessary, and it’s already been too long since he first attacked your hiding place. Reinforcements could be on their way right now.”

 

Alex remained on the line as Kara and Lena made for the next apartment. Like Kara expected, Jess stood vigilant at the door of the enclosed bathroom, holding her trusty cleaver close in case the alien on the other side of the door pulled any more tricks out of his sleeve. She wore a pair of bright yellow rubber gloves.

“About time,” Jess said, as soon as she saw Supergirl and Lena walk into the apartment. “This guy has a really gross sense of humor.”

“Don’t most men?” Kara muttered, kicking open the door with a little more force than necessary. The alien was sitting in the tub, his hands still stuck close to his face from the metal twisted around his arms and torso. His face was heavily bruised, and Kara was almost proud to see a large, swollen welt over the bridge of his nose where she’d punched him in the face. He waved at them as they filed inside the bathroom.

“Wonderful, you’re back,” he said, “Your guard dog is awfully boring.”

Jess made a sound of disgust somewhere behind Kara.

“Remember, Supergirl, don’t listen to him. No violence,” Alex instructed, her voice muffled under Kara’s grip.

No violence. No anger. No fire.

Kara took one look at his grin and curled her free hand into a fist. It was going to be more difficult than she thought.

“What’s your name?” Lena asked, leaning against the counter, arms folded sternly over her midsection. Her tone of voice held no room for disobedience.

“Carter,” he said without hesitation.

“Well, Carter,” Lena said, lifting the fingers on one hand slightly as she spoke his name. Kara had seen her do that motion several times before, but hadn’t recognized the disciplinary purpose of it until now. Lena’s gaze roamed over Carter carefully, noting every detail. “Here’s the deal. We have some questions about the people you’re working for. You tell us what we want to know, and my colleagues and I will consider letting you go free.”

Carter laughed. The same slimey laugh that ate through Kara’s resolve to stay neutral like acid through sheet metal. It took more willpower than she anticipated to stay standing in place beside her friends and not grinding a heel into his eye socket. “Wow, what an offer,” he said, flashing Lena a toothy smile. “What’s my alternative? Supergirl gets a final go at me to finish what she wants?”

Lena was quick to place a hand on Kara’s shoulder to keep her from lunging at him.

“No,” Lena answered casually, looking unbothered by his attitude. “As much as I’m sure you’d love for Supergirl to tear you to pieces, I’m not about to let her stoop to your level.”

“Right,” he said, “that’s your level, isn’t it? Luthors love a good, cold-hearted murder before supper.”

Lena’s gaze flashed dangerously. She tightened her grip on Kara’s shoulder, but then leaned forward inches from Carter’s face, just far enough that his bound hands couldn’t reach her. “Now you’re getting it,” she said softly. The comfortable malice in her voice was new and slightly terrifying. Kara resisted the urge to recoil back; it was like seeing the TV-Lena come to life right before her eyes. Lena took a moment’s pause to glance down at the tub Carter sat in. It was large, more like a small swimming pool than a bathtub. “How long can you hold your breath, Carter?”

He followed her gaze to where it landed on the railing wrapped around his arms, then toward the spigot just beyond his feet.

“You don’t scare me,” he said. Kara saw his lip twitch.

“That’s alright,” Lena said, straightening up. Her hand remained pressed against Kara.  “I don’t need to scare you. I don’t want your fear, I want your cooperation. And from where I’m standing, I have two simple choices: turn on the water, or leave it off. Which would you prefer?”

This side of Lena was startling. Part of Kara wondered if maybe she, too, had been affected by the Red K, but the other part of her whispered that Lena knew exactly what she was doing. Lena could play whatever part she needed. She might have been handed the title of CEO as her brother’s beneficiary, but there was a reason L-CORP had flourished ever since.

Carter, on the other hand, looked less convinced of his situation.

“You really _are_ a Luthor,” he said, sneering. “Everyone thinks you’re a spineless coward, but you’re a little viper, aren’t you? Act the part of the sweet, innocent baby sister caught in the crosshairs of your big brother’s alien vendetta. Bet you’re just as much of a self righteous terrorist as him.”

Oh, how Kara wanted to strangle him. The itch of it flared in her palms, and she was kept back only by Lena’s grip still digging into her shoulder. “Careful, Carter,” Kara said coldly, trying to sound as disaffected as Lena, “Someone might think she’s getting to you.”

“Spineless coward?” Lena repeated, pursing her lips as she considered the words. “That’s a new one. Most people just jump straight to the self righteous terrorist.”

Carter’s laugh this time was harsh and unamused. “Whatever, I’ve got nothing to lose. I’m going to die anyway. Telling you anything won’t change that.”

“You don’t strike me as the loyal type,” said Lena, finally letting go of Kara to perch on the edge of the tub, still out of his reach. She crossed her legs, calm and casual, and settled her hands over her knee. “What’s so important that you’d die for Maxwell Lord, if you’ve got nothing to lose?”

The alien stared at her, caught off guard.

“He promise you money? Weapons? Security?” Lena pressed, tilting her head. She clicked her tongue. “Surely you know Lord Technologies is only a quarter of the company that L-CORP is.”

“I don’t want your damn money,” Carter said, upturning his nose like he smelled something foul. “I don’t want anything from _you_.” Kara could see the doubt swimming in his eyes as they settled on Kara’s. It switched back and forth between resolution and deliberation. Which was interesting, considering through all of their interactions, he’d never once seemed to be the kind that had any sort of ethics system to adhere to.

Lena shrugged. “That’s a shame. I have so much more to offer than he ever will.”

Something strange passed over Carter’s face. His expression scrunched, almost in pain, and then just as quickly he slumped backward and the lazy smile he’d so often aimed at Kara spread back over his mouth. His eyes were glassy as he looked up at Lena. The doubt and anger were gone, replaced by an unfocused, distant haze.

“You’ll never be like Lord,” he said dreamily. “You’ll never amount to anything, Miss Luthor. Nothing at all.”

Kara’s anger faded back. The abrupt change in his behavior filled her with unease.

Instead of responding, Lena whipped around to look at Jess. Like Carter, her demeanor shifted without warning from careless to inexplicably alarmed. “Give me your gloves,” she commanded, and Jess scrambled to pull them off as quickly as possible. She nearly threw them at Lena in her haste.

“What’s going on?” Kara heard Alex say.

“Supergirl, put these on. I need you to keep his mouth open,” Lena instructed, shoving the gloves at Kara.

“I have no idea,” Kara said to Alex, before passing the phone to Jess. She took the gloves from Lena and yanked them over her hands. The rubber snapped uncomfortably against the small blisters around her wrists and forearms.

Lena didn’t appear interested in being forthcoming about her plan. She was silent as Kara forced Carter’s head back against the rim of the tub. He didn’t resist, though Kara had to pry his jaw open. The squeak of the rubber gloves against his wet teeth made her cringe.

“He better not bite me,” Kara warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

“He won’t,” Lena said, but she offered no explanation as to how she knew it. “Just don’t let him touch me.”

Kara didn’t even know how to question what Lena intended to do. Skeptical, she pressed her protected wrist over his hands to keep him from reaching Lena’s as she reached carefully into his mouth.

“Gross,” Jess said, and then described the scene to Alex in a hushed, hurried whisper.

Kara waited with baited breath. Lena was intently focused, no longer caring to keep her cruel facade from showing the anxiety bleeding through it. Kara had no idea what she was searching for, but as the seconds ticked by, the heavy feeling of dread started to fill the bottom of her stomach. Lena knew something, or at least suspected it.

Lena suddenly stilled. Kara heard a soft _click_ , and then slowly, Lena extracted her hand from Carter’s open mouth.

Something small and blue was pinched between her fingers. It glistened in the soft bathroom light and looked surprisingly like a tiny computer chip.

“What is that?” Kara asked, staring at it.

Lena’s eyes flickered over to Carter’s face. Kara let go of him, but the alien remained where he was, the delirious happiness still stretched over his too-perfect features.

“A brainwave-altering implant,” Lena answered solemnly. Her hand lowered slowly into her lap, and Kara noticed a faint tremble in her shoulders.

“How do you know that?” came Alex’s voice, from where Jess held out the phone toward the two women beside the bathtub.

Lena didn’t answer for a long, tense moment. She stared at the chip in her hand.

Then, with a shaky exhale, she looked up at Kara and said, “Because I created it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE plot twists, you say???   
> :D


End file.
